Age of Iron: Refusal
by Full-Paragon
Summary: In ages past, the gods of death ruled, enslaving and harvesting the mortal races as they saw fit. But in the Age of Apocalypse, The Shepard arose and cast down the gods of death, freeing the peoples. Now is the Age of Iron. The peoples once again strive against the servants of the dark gods, and cry out for the return of The Shepard. And their cries are heard.
1. Chapter 1

**Story image by AndrewRyanArt on deviant art, who gave me the inspiration for this story with his excellent Dragon Age/Mass Effect series.**

**MASS EFECT: AGE OF IRON**

**THE WORLD YOU KNOW IS NOT THE SAME**

In ages past, mighty gods fought in the skies to determine the fate of the universe, raining down death and terror as the people pled to the heavens for aid. From the human tribes arose a mighty warrior, in whom the blood of the gods ran. He was... THE SHEPARD. He assembled a group of legendary heroes and destroyed the gods of death, freeing the peoples; but victory came at a price. The nations of the world were destroyed, and cast to the four winds. Now, only their shadows remain.

To the south, the mighty Urdnot Empire stands as a bulwark against the dark lands, where dead gods sleep and the Cult of the Reaper yet lies, waiting in the shadows. The great krogan warriors stand as a shield against the shadow, their might unmatched and their valor legendary. But their numbers ever dwindle despite their virility, and soon they will no longer be able to hold back the tide of the dark gods servants.

To the east, the Order of Dextros stands firm against the vorcha menace. The might of the turians soldiers and the skill of the quarians maintain their wall against the vorcha hordes. They will not yield so long as swords stay sharp and their eyes keen. But whispers arise, of a vorcha chief blessed by the dark gods who stands ready to overrun the Order.

To the west, the spires of the Great Republic ascend to the heavens as brilliant salarian scholars delve deep mysteries and asari mystics ponder the secrets of the universe. But rumor spreads of a dark secret hidden within the glimmering palaces and marbal halls. An ancient, evil secret that could spell the ruin of all.

In the north, the hardy men of the Dominion yet cling to their land, holding off the batarian slavers that raid from the seas. They are explores and traders, men of great valor in the tradition of The Shepard, who led aid to the beleaguered Order and Empire. But the batarians grow in ferocity. Some fel horror stalks the northern waters, bending the batarians to its will. How long before it turns its attention to the men of the north?

**THIS IS A LAND BESET BY CONFLICT AND DARKNESS. ALL THE PEOPLES CRY OUT TO THE GODS. WHERE IS THE SAVIOR. WHERE IS SHEPARD.**

_And the gods... Listen._

**Chapter 1**

The sun shone over head, blasting the withered land of the dead. A great mountain cast it's long shadow over the land, but it was not the shadow that made Urdnot Gargo shiver. Within the mountain lay a dead god. And dead gods dream darkly. From the slain god spread the sickness, the rot and filth that had ruined the land.

"Ugly, isn't it." He remarked as he cleaned his great war axe on the tattered robes of the slain cult leader. His armor gleamed in the shadow of the mountain, engraved with purity symbols to ward off the evil of the dead gods tomb. He prayed to the gods that they would be enough.

He stood, flexing his muscles beneath his armor, it's heavy metal plate chafing slightly against his own rocky hide. He shrugged, settling it upon his skin and wiped gore from the brow of his red head crest. Killing cultists was dirty work.

"What, the cultists, the rot, the tomb or you?" Joked his companion. Her own robe was travel stained, but her blade was sharp and her chain mail armor made with all the arcane science of the salarians of her homeland. The diadem of an asari justicar of the Order of Saint Liara shown upon her brow. She was a paladin, a biotic sorceress who wore thick armor and feared no evil, for the Goddess was with her. Tol'riah cleaned her own two handed blade by plunging it into the cracked earth, easily forcing all six and a half feet of the sword into the soil with biotic might.

Gargo grunted."All of it."

"To true my love." Tol'riah agreed, yanking her blade free as she glowed with arcane power. "You always pick the most wonderful places to take me."

"There is a dragon." Gargo stated, "And I have sworn to kill it for slaying my father, Urdnot Galgo, Chief of the Iron Warriors clan."

"And I have sworn to accompany you." Tol'riah grinned, "So let us find this fel beast."

They continued their journey toward the mountain as shadows lengthened and the sky darkened. In the land of dead gods, stars did not shine at night, and the sky was as black as a vorcha's heart. This did not unduely bother the two warriors as they trotted forward. Gargo could smell his way forward, his eyes adjusting to the dim light easily. With her arcane witchery, Tol'riah could find her way in utter darkness as the Goddess showed her the way forward. Though they ran to almost certain death, the warriors did so with a smile on their faces. To slay minions of the dark gods was good. To face a dragon was a deed worthy of legend.

The dead miles vanished under their pounding feet, and the warriors soon found a ritual site dedicated to the dead god that lay within the tomb. Minions of flesh and blood along with abominations of witchcraft and metal danced before an effigy of a many armed horror; around which the skulls of krogan lay piled.

"They despoil the bones of my ancestors!" Gargo rumbled, "Shall we destroy them?"

"Wait. We are not alone." Tol'riah cautioned, "I sense the presence of another on the ridge to the east."

"Are they corrupted?" Gargo asked.

"No my love," Tol'riah assured him, "Here, a moment."

Tol'riah closed her eyes and sent her mind questing for the uncorrupted presence.

_Sorcery! Witchcraft! I am betrayed!_

A strange mind raged. Tol'riah could sense no taint upon the individual, and she sent soothing messages of peace.

_I am a paladin of the Goddess. Who are you? _She asked.

_By the spirits, are you real? I am First Lieutenant Hart Mortin of the Long Watch. _

_A turian? So far from home? _Tol'riah asked.

_They took one of my soldiers, Shali'Zorah, a quarian. She is the subject of the ritual below. I am sworn to save her, or die trying._

Tol'riah checked the ritual site for uncorrupted flesh, and found the still beating heart of a frightened quarian girl.

_I have found her. We will aid you in rescuing your lost soldier. _

_How do I know this isn't a trap? _Hart demanded.

"Our friend is a turian. He seeks to save one of his soldiers, a quarian girl down below. He asks us to prove we are not of the dark gods." Tol'riah informed Gargo, already knowing his response.

"THEN BY THE SHEPARD, LET HIM SEE! FOR URDNOT!" Gargo bellowed, rising and charging head first down the slop, his shield before him and his axe raised. In his charge, he struck down a metal monstrosity, cleaving it in twain with a single sweep of his axe.

As fast as Gargo was, he was not as fast as the arcane fueled limbs of Tol'riah. She swept down the mountain like a landslide, carving a gory path through the cultists to the captive girl.

"FOR THE GODDESS AND FOR MY LADY!" She shrieked as she decapitated a cult leader of flesh and bone, his head flying through air like an overripe melon.

She heard a dull thump behind her, and turned to see a metal husk with it's head transfixed by a bolt from a turian crossbow.

"BY THE SPIRITS I GUESS THAT WORKS!" A turian voice called over the din of battle.

Together, the three champions of the light laid waste to the compound. Gargo with his mighty axe, Tol'riah with her elegant blade, and Hart with his deadly aim. Once site was empty of the enemy, Hart emerged from hiding and ran to the side of the quarian. Her face was bare to the world, and the turian carried a head wrap and veil so that her ancestors would not be shamed.

"Shali, I am here!" Hart panted, removing his pointed coif and uncorking his water skin.

"Lieutenant? Is that you?" The quarian groaned.

"I am here, soldier. I was not going to let you die on me. Not when the blood of the Shepard's boon companion flowed in your veins."

"She is of the house of Zorah true?" Gargo asked.

"My mother's mother's mother's mother back to the breaking of the world was the Lady Zorah." Shali rasped, "Though I did not do my Ancestor's proud these past days."

"Did they violate you? Are you stained?" Hart asked, drawing out the mercy knife all soldiers carried. Above death, warriors of the free races feared corruption. Loss of heart and soul, body and mind turned to the will of the dark gods.

"No, the Ancestors smile on me yet I think." Shali said, taking the face wrap and veil and hiding her features.

"She is clean." Tol'riah affirmed, "Let me heal her."

"I would be honored lady justicar." Shali agreed.

"Then by the Goddess, be whole." The asari murmured, laying her hands upon Shali. The quarian was surrounded by a soft blue glow, and gasped in shock as her wounds kit and closed.

"Thank you. I don't know how far we would have gotten with out your aid. We are both in your debt." Hart stated, bowing his head.

"By my Ancestors, my life is yours and my service at your feet." Shali whispered, kneeling before Tol'riah, "By my life or death if I may serve you, I shall."

"And I as well." Hart agreed, kneeling himself.

"Then I bond you both to the service of the Empire of Urdnot, as my debt is your debt." Tol'riah intoned, raising the two to their feet.

"Bad move. We're here to slay a dragon." Gargo chuckled.

"Always wanted to die a hero." Hart said wistfully.

Shali giggled. "If we succeed, my Ancestors will be most please.

The companions turned to the mountain and headed toward the gaping maw the cultists alter had lain before.

"Feh, you can smell the beasts stench from here." Hart muttered as they neared the portal.

Shuddering, Shali drew her head wrap close around her shoulders. "It is evil, a shadow of the dead god."

"An evil that will not see the sunrise, or we shall not." Gargo vowed, and led the party inside.

Hart and Shali could not see in the dark as Gargo and Tol'riah could, so the justicar lit their path with a witch orb. The halls of the dead god were carved with ancient and evil runes and signs, depicting the perverse prophesies of the Cult of the Reaper.

"What is this?" Shali said, pausing to stare at an image of a bound and chained man. "That is their rune for Starblinder, their name for the Shepard."

Tol'riah paused and held her light over the markings. "It speaks of the Starblinder bound, never to see the light of day. The runes say he is guarded by a chosen of the gods."

"The dragon." Gargo stated.

Shali nodded. "Agreed. But the idea that anyone could imprison the Shepard..."

"A fools thought. The Shepard has long returned to the gods." Hart snorted, "Come on. Let us slay the abomination and be gone. I have no desire to stay in the halls of dark dreams."

Before long, the passage began to grow hot, and an orange glow could be seen ahead.

"Spirits protect us." Hart breathed, fingering his crossbow, "Ahead is the beasts lair."

"Perhaps we have caught him napping." Gargo mused, "His glow was fiery red when he raided our outpost."

They continued on, and before long labored metal rasping could be heard.

"The beast is wounded! Galgo's death throws struck true!" Tol'riah exclaimed, "Come, we must slay it before it can recover!"

The party surged forward, and beheldthe dragon before them. It was a mighty and ancient beast, one that had plagued the Empire for centuries, if not millennia It's dark metal frame was lit with a wicked orange light, the twisted metal plates of its body heaving with the beasts every breath. It's face was a bare, pointed metal slag, and many horns like the arms of the damned adorned its head. Its tail was long with a iron maul the size of a house at it's tip, and it's wings were wide metal plates that crackled with fel power.

**PATHETIC CREATURES OF FLESH AND BONE. YOU ARE IN THE PRESENCE OF A GOD. KNEEL. YOUR WILLS ARE MINE!** The metallic tones of the beast rumbled.

"NO! By my Ancestor Lady Zorah, we will not yield!" Shali roared.

**THEN YOU SHALL FALL IN BATTLE. I AM WOUNDED, BUT THE LIKES OF YOU MAY NOT SLAY ONE SUCH AS I.** The dragon roared and it's great maw opened, a stream of molten metal reaching out for the small band of heroes.

"MY FAITH IS A SHIELD PROOF AGAINST YOUR BLANDISHMENTS, BEAST!" Tol'riah shouted, and the light of her blue witchcraft surrounded her, diverting the deadly flow.

"Oh! Oh Ancestors!" Shali groaned, "I- I can feel my blood! Feel the power in my bones! Ancestors, grant me strength!"

"Her blood sings at the sight of her ancient enemy!" Hart crowed, "Strike true, Daughter of Lady Zorah!"

Shali's arm glowed a warm orange, and a shot of pure energy as large as a krogan's head lept from her outstretched palm into the maw of the dragon. The bolt struck true, and the beast roared in pain and agony.

Hart drew his cross bow and fired at the beasts blazing left eye. The spirits guided his aim, and the bolt struck true, shattering the bests eye and blinding it.

"FOR MY FATHER AND CLAN!" Gargo bellowed, "THROW ME MY HEART!"

Tol'riah rose in the air, and blue lightning flashed from her eyes. With a mighty heave, she threw Gargo through the air at the dragon.

With a strike that would have done the krogan of old proud, Gargo struck where his dying father had. The already stressed metal shattered, and Gargo had to spring out of the way as the molten life of the beast leaked out.

"Now! Together!" Tol'riah ordered, and as one she and Shali unleashed twin barrages of blue and orange lightning into the belly of the dragon.

**NO! I CANNOT DIE! I HAVE DARKENED THE STARS! I HAVE EATEN YOUR CHILDREN AND TURNED THE MINDS OF YOUR FATHERS! I! CAN! NOT! BE! SLAIN!**

"Could have fooled me." Hart quipped, and fired a special bolt into the already churning belly of the beast. It was an arcane bolt, blessed by the priests of the quarians and turians and coated with holy eezo.

There was a flash, and the dragon twisted and bent in upon itself and it writhed in its death throws. Then it's metal chard and blackened, then dissolved into ash.

"I cannot believe it!" Shali gasped, "We have done it!"

"I count your debt full filled." Tol'riah dryly remarked, "I have never slain a dragon before."

"Few have and lived." Gargo said, examining his axe, "But I fear my axe was destroyed by the beast."

"Then we shall morn it's loss and sing of it in the halls of the living!" Hart laughed.

Suddenly, the turian paused and peered into the dimness. "What is that, upon the beasts horde?"

"I do not know." Tol'riah replied, "But let us examine it. Perhaps it contains some vile relic that must be destroyed."

The party drew near to the still smoldering heap, and climbed atop the heap of twisted metal and bones that the dragon had lain upon. At the heart, an oblong metal shape lay, about the height and width of a man.

"What is it?" Shali asked, placing her hands upon the box. The relic suddenly glowed with orange light, responding to her touch.

"You seem to have activated it." Tol'riah observed, "Prepare yourselves, we know not what manner of beasts lies within."

The box hissed, and suddenly slid open. Inside lay a human man in broken armor. Upon his breast, the sacred symbol of the Shepard was imprinted. A white N7 on a red field.

"By the spirits," Hart whispered, "Is it...?"

"Let us find out." Tol'riah said, laying hands upon the sleeping man. She glowed blue with power, and the man sat up and coughed.

"Miranda!" He choked, phlegm coming from his mouth.

"Who are you?" Gargo demanded, "Are you The Shepard?"

"Same to you pal. Can I have some water?" The man pleaded.

Wordlessly, Hart uncorked his water skin and held it to the humans lips. The man drank greedily then sighed. "Thanks."

"I am Tol'riah of the Order of Saint Liara." The justicar stated.

Gargo answered next. "I am Urdnot Gargo, son of Clan Chief Urdnot Galgo, whose death I have avenged by slaying the dragon that guarded you."

"I am Shali'Zorah vas Ylima." The quarian stated.

"First Lieutenant Hart Mortin of the Long Watch, Sword of House Zorah." The turian stated with a salute.

The human groaned and shakily got to his feet. "Commander David Shepard, Alliance Navy. By the fact were all alive, I take it the Reapers are defeated?"

Gargo roared with laughter and shook his head. "If only. The Cult of the Reapers persists, as always. But the krogan still fight. And the shadow stays at bay."

"But how are we still alive then? The last thing I remember, I shot that bastard Catalyst. I don't remember anything after that." John persisted.

"Hmph. I'm not convinced he is The Shepard." Gargo muttered.

"We must take him to the Matriarchs. They will know." Tol'riah assured her mate.

Shali drew herself up. "Then I stand with you. We will see if this is The Shepard, if my people are truly saved."

"I go where you go my lady." Hart stated.

Shepard gave them all a hard stare, then shook his head. "Well then, I guess I'm going with you guys. Beats staying in a box."

_Authors Note: _

_Yeah, so, I wrote this because the awesome folks at Aria's Afterlife told me I should. If you think I should write more, drop me a review or a PM. Until then, _

_**MAY YOUR DREAMS BE FREE OF THE DARKNESS.**_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**Shepard**

Commander David Shepard was slightly confused. Well, maybe more than slightly. The last thing he really remembered was deciding that the reapers could go fuck themselves, and shooting the Catalyst responsible for exterminating untold races. He was NOT merging all life in the universe into some sort of cyborg cluster fuck. He sure as hell wasn't becoming the enemy and controlling them, and he was already trying to destroy the Reapers. Hell, he had united every race in the galaxy, scrounged every resource he could, beaten back the Reapers on every front he could manage. So as far as he was concerned, it had been yet another plot by that bastard Star Child to manipulate him.

And from what he could see, it might have actually worked. He was with a krogan, a turian, a quarian and an asari, and they all seemed to be getting along pretty well. The krogan seemed to be respected by everyone, as well as being the defacto leader. It would have warmed the cockles of Wrex's heart to see the krogan not just as respected members of the galaxy, but a race everyone turned to for leadership and wisdom.

Better still was the way everyone was treating the quarian. She was apparently related to Tali somehow, and was being treated like royalty by everyone else. The last he remembered, while the races of the galaxy were grateful to the quarians, they were still second class citizens that people had to remind themselves they owed a debt too. Sure, the migrant fleet had made up a huge portion of the Coalition and they had brought the geth with them, but the major races still didn't seem to quite accept them as equals.

There was, however, one slight problem. All their gear looked like it came from a meeting of the Society for Creative Anachronisms, and worse still, it looked like it had been used. Shepard had no idea why exactly that could be, the last he remembered the races of the galaxy had just completed the technological marvel of the Crucible.

"Lot of good that did us." He grunted, painfully trying to keep up with the others. The asari claimed to have healed him, but he still ached all over.

"Silence, human." The krogan ordered, "There are certain to be more abominations about, and the death of their master is sure to call them."

"Fantastic. Got a gun I could borrow?"

The quarian turned and regarded him strangely. He face was hidden behind a veil, but it was obvious to Shepard she didn't actually have an enviro -uit. Another oddity. "What is a 'gun?' It would be better for you to have a weapon. Here, take my knife."

She passed him a long, elegantly curved knife with a blade about a hand long. "Er, thanks." Shepard muttered, then checked his omni-tool. He was an engineer, and after a bit of tinkering got it activated. Perfect, it still worked.

"Oh, you are a techno-sorcerer?" The turian asked, observing the orange glow.

"No, I'm a combat engineer." Shepard answered, "Come on, you have to know who I am. Commander Shepard, the first human SPECTER?"

"We know of the Shepard." The asari told him coolly, "As to if you are the Shepard or merely one who bears his name remains to be seen."

"I got my dog tags right here lady." Shepard groused, holding up the N7 tags.

"So you have a holy icon of the Shepard." She replied, "What of it? Many carry his sacred symbol to ward off the darkness."

That, admittedly, was the first time he had ever heard anyone call an N7 mark "sacred." Usually people thought more along the lines of "badass" or "commando."

He was about to ask just what the hell she was talking about when he heard a faint sound, like dozens of feet slapping against stone floors.

"Sounds like we got company." He remarked, readying his omni-tool.

"Good. I tire of talking." The krogan rumbled, hefting a half melted axe.

Around the corner poured several Reaper foot soldiers. "Oh shit, they have a brute." Shepard groaned.

"FOR THE GODDESS!" The asari roared, hefting her massive blade and using her biotics to rush forward.

"FOR MY ANCESTORS!" The quarian shouted, her arm glowing orange, but instead of the familiar omni-tool, her skin cracked and orange lines formed on the limb.

The turian calmly raised his crossbow and fired. "The spirits will guide me."

"FOR URDNOT!" The krogan bellowed, and rushed forward.

Shepard hurled a few incinerates and overloads into the melee, taking out some husks and marauders. Strangely, they too were armed with melee weapons instead of mass accelerators, the husks with arms that ended in wicked blades instead of hands, and the marauders carrying wicked looking swords and maces.

"THE HELL IS GOING ON!" He screamed as a husk closed in on him, activating his omni-blade and jamming it square in the creatures face.

Between them, the party quickly accounted for the creatures with only minor wounds, which the asari healed.

"We must move, more will come." The krogan urged, and they all broke into a run. They soon made it outside, but it was so dark the only way Shepard could tell they were no longer in the catacombs was a faint breeze.

"Just where the hell are we?" Shepard demanded, activating his omni-tool and running a long range scan, "The last place I remember being was orbiting Earth."

"We are in the Dark Wastes. And now is not the time nor place for questions." The krogan answered. "Come."

"Right." Shepard sighed, and hobbled after the party.

"What was your name again?" He gasped to the turian. He looked pretty standard for a member of his race, with white facepaint and light brown skin plates.

"Lieutenant Hart Mortin. The turian answered evenly, jogging easily at the back with Shepard.

"Right. What planet is this?" Shepard managed, nearly stumbling on the uneven ground.

"Planet?" Hart's mandibles twitched, "What do you mean? As Gorgo said, these are the Dark Wastes."

"The world!" Shepard persisted, beginning to find the rhythm of the space, though his muscles still burned, "What system? Are we still on Earth?"

"We run on earth." Hart answered evenly. "Save your breath human, we have long to go before morning."

Shepard gave up and did his best to keep pace. It was ridiculous, he was an N7, a light run like this should be nothing, but he was blowing like a raw recruit after only a few hundred yards.

"Wait." The asari ordered. She grabbed Shepard's shoulders and funneled biotic energy into him. "It is strange, it is as if parts of him are metal, but I sense no taint in him."

"Let me try." The quarian offered, stepping forward and placing a hand on Shepard's chest. Her own palm glowed orange, and sparks leapt between him.

"He is part geth The quarian explained, "We do this sometimes to warriors who lose an arm or leg. It is strange though, I could not tell from looking at it his parts are geth grafts."

"They are consecrated though?" The krogan demanded, raising his melted axe.

"I believe so," The quarian nodded, "But I am no priest, only a techno-mage."

"More reason to take him to the matriarchs." The asari added, "They and the dalatress' will know what to do with him."

The two healings had sapped what little energy Shepard had left, and he sank to his knees. "I... I need to rest." He gasped.

"Hmph. Over there. Good a place as any." Gorgo rumbled. Shepard was fairly certain that was the krogan's name.

Hart half dragged Shepard over to the rocky outcropping Gorgo had chosen, and Shepard lay down gratefully on the hard soil. The others unstrapped their armor and made themselves comfortable.

"Roll for first watch?" Hart offered the asari, pulling out a worn wooden dice.

"No, take your ease turian. I shall stand first watch. I will wake you when it is time." The justicar told him.

"Thank you, paladin Tol'riah." Hart agreed.

Shepard found it strange that there was no discussion of the quarian or the krogan taking first watch. Indeed, the turian and the asari seemed to defer to them. As Shepard's lids grew heavy, he wondered just what had happened, and where he was.

**Hart**

First watch was something Hart was used to. Theoretically, he outranked Shali, and could have ordered her to take first watch. She had been assigned to him for training on the Long Watch, and was supposed to defer to him. In reality, Hart was the First Sword of the Zorah household, and she a daughter of those he was sworn to. As such, in matters not directly related to combat or training, he followed her lead. He smiled down at the sleeping quarian, her veiled blowing softly with her breath. He thanked the spirits he had found her in time.

It had taken him a fortnight to track her down. Their patrol had split, Hart taking another scout with him to check for vorcha activity while Shali and three others went to refill their water skins. But the vorcha had not been found, and to late Hart realized they had known his patrol was there and double back. He found the three dead, two turians and a quarian, good soldiers all. He sent his last scout, Ylna'Veek, back to alert the outpost, and started on his way.

After three days pursuit and no help, Hart figured either the Vorcha had gotten Ylna, or something worse had happened. Either way, he was on his own. After five days he had tracked down and slain the vorcha, but Shali was nowhere to be found. He did find implments of the Cult of the Reaper on the vorcha, and dark corruption upon their bodies. It was a terrifying find, normally the vorcha were barbaric, but not actually evil. If they started following the cult... He had a feeling the Order would not last long.

Crossing into the wastes had been harrowing, but he had persisted. He could not let Shali be corrupted, her blood was to strong, even if she was only a beginning techno-mage one day she could become an enginseer. A force like that, turned to the dark gods was not something Hart wanted to dwell on.

But the spirits had smiled on him, and he had found her just as the cultists began their ceremony to corrupt her. His aim and been to kill both himself and Shali and deny their bodies to the dark, but thanks to the Urdnot Warrior and his retainer that had not been necessary.

"O Spirits, your servant thanks you." Hart whispered to the night. "Watch over my charge, and guide my aim tomorrow. Deliver us back to the lands of light, and keep the shadow from us."

**Shepard**

Her body against his, writhing in pleasure on their last night together. Her lips on his body, the feel of her breasts.

"Shepard..."

He awoke with a start. It was pitch black, and for a moment he could not see, thought he was trapped in the belly of a Reaper or alone with Miranda again.

"... Guide me as you did my ancestor, The Lady Tali. Give me strength, that I may serve my people."

"Tali?" Shepard moaned. It certainly sounded like her.

There was a rustling, and he sat up. He turned to see two glowing quarian eyes regarding him.

"I am Shali." She nodded, "Go back to sleep. Gorgo and I decided you had no watch tonight."

"Thought you were Tali for a moment there." Shepard said, "You sound like her."

Tilting her head, Shali's glowing eyes stared into Shepard's own. "You speak as if you knew the great Ancestor."

Shepard chuckled softly. "Well yeah. We were together for what? Three suicide missions? I would say I know Tali'Zorah vas Normandy better than anyone. Well, except Garrus."

"Who is 'Garrus?'" The quarian asked.

"You know, Garrus Vakarian?" Shepard prompted, "Hero of the turian people? No? Archangel of Omega?"

"Ah, yes, the turian ancestor." Shali nodded. "The Archangel I know of."

"What, you don't know he was called Garrus Vakarian first?" Shepard demanded, "And why are you speaking about Tali like she's dead?"

"I know of no Garrus Vakarian, though Vakarian is a common turian family name." Shali explained, "And of course Tali'Zorah is dead. She lived in the Age of Apocalypse, long since past."

"Tali... Dead?" Shepard couldn't believe it, couldn't make his mind accept it. "How did she die?"

Shali shrugged. "Legend says she flew on the wings of the angel Normandy and destroyed the dark gods with the Shepard. Some claim she died fighting the mightiest of the dark gods, Harbinger. Others say she lived and built a home for her people upon the land. The truth is something not even the Matriarchs or krogan shaman would know."

"What about Miranda?" Shepard demanded, "Do you know of her? Miranda Lawson?"

Shali's eyes bobbed. "Of course, everyone knows of the Shepard's consort. She lay his body in the heavens and the gods honored her by blessing her with a holy blade that struck down the three headed beast Cerberus and the Blue Eyed Demon. She is honored as the Ancestor of humanity, and gave birth to the Shepard's children. The twins, Adam and Eve who together built the Dominion of Humanity and drove back the demons of the deep."

"I... I had children? A boy and a girl?" It was possible. That last time on the Normandy, she had told him to forgo the rubber.

"If I'm lucky, maybe I'll catch a piece of you." She had whispered as he went into her.

"What do you mean, you had children?" Shali demanded, "Are you claiming to truly be the Shepard."

"I am Commander David Shepard!" He roared, standing up, "Hero of the Citadel Captain of the Normandy! I fought the Reapers and spit in the face of the Star Child! I united the galaxy and fought for the lost! Who the Hell are you?"

**WE ARE HARBINGER. AND WE DID NOT EXPECT YOU TO SO QUICKLY REVEAL YOURSELF, SHEPARD.**

Whirling, Shepard saw a burning figure descending from the heavens, wielding a sword of flame and gliding on wings of shadow and fire.

"Ancestors, awaken, foes are upon us!" Shali shouted, though the others were already standing and arming themselves.

The fel figure set itself down outside the campfire ring.

**SO, YOU AWAKEN FROM YOUR SLUMBER. WE HAD HOPED YOU WOULD JOIN US SHEPARD, BUT EVEN IN YOUR DREAMS YOU DEFY US.**

"Hey, you know what I say to that!" Shepard spat, "FUCK YOU PAL!"

He drew Shali's knife, activated his omnitool and charged, screaming his defiance.

**PITIFUL.**

Harbinger brought up is blade, and Shepard flew back in a shower of sparks.

"Die, demon!" Shali shouted, stretching out her palm and sending a ball of energy into it.

**USELESS. **

A hand of embers rose and snuffed out Shali's attack, like a child extinguishing a candle.

"RAWR!" Gargo charged, trying to batter Harbinger with his shield.

**WEAK. **

Harbinger simply backhanded the krogan, knocking him senselessly to the ground.

Wasting no energy on chatter, Hart let fly with a bolt, but the projectile burst into ash before it could even touch Harbinger.

**FUTILE. **

"By Liara you shall not have us!" The justicar roared, sending a storm of biotic fury at Harbinger.

**IMPOTENT. **

The energy struck the glowing monster, but it was unmoved.

"You talk to damn much." Taking advantage of the distraction the others had provided, Shepard had activated his still working stealth field and snuck around behind the reaper avatar, sinking the blade of his omnitool deep into its chest.

**NO!**

Harbinger's flame guttered out, and it slumped to its knees.

**YOU MAY DESTROY THIS FORM SHEPARD, BUT WE WILL RETURN. WE ARE ETERNAL. WE ARE LEGION. WE ARE-**

"Shut up." Shepard unleashed an overload directly inside Harbinger, causing it to explode and throwing him back.

After a moment of dazed weakness, Shepard stood up, dusting himself off and examing the field. Glowing embers were scattered across a while swath, but before him, four figures knelt.

"The Shepard!" The whispered, their faces uplifted, tears in their eyes. Even the tough krogan was weeping freely, a look of pure joy on his face.

"You have return!" Shali whispered, "You have come to save us again."

Sighing, Shepard motioned for them to stand. "I don't know what has happened, or why the world looks like this. But it's obvious the Reapers are still out there. And I guess you already know, but my job is killing those metal bastards. Come on, let's move. Maybe your leaders have some answers."

_Authors Note:_

_So, some of you may be wondering just what this is. Well, simply put, this is a swords and sorcery take on Mass Effect. More will be revealed later, but for now, leave a review and tell me what you think, and if I should keep this up. Thanks for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**Gargo**

Being a krogan wasn't easy. If you were a boy, you were raised from birth to be a warrior. Sure, you were also required to take up another trade, Gargo was also a kakliosaur rancher, but your primary focus was being a warrior. Women were expected to have as many sons and daughters as they could, and to start breeding as early as possible. They were also expected to take a up a trade, though most of their time was still spent breeding and raising the next batch of warriors and mothers. Gargo himself had 14 sons and 19 daughters, and he was only 113. His first wife had died in a cultist attack, and instead of taking another as was expected, Gargo had taken Tol'riah in.

Originally, he had found the battered and bruised justicar on a scouting mission, and had nursed her back to health. She had sworn fealty to him, and he had taken her as a mate. He still had a breeding contract with a concubine, but she was just now becoming old enough to bear him children. He and Tol'riah had already had a child who was being reared by his clan. This was seen as both eccentric and honorable. An asari child with a powerful biotic mother would be a great asset to her clan when she matured, and she was being trained by battlemasters and shamans though she was still in nappies. She was considered to be a full krogan even if her mother was asari, though the krogan consider her to be male until she entered her matron stage.

That however, was all background noise to Gargo. The hard part for him was knowing that out of his 14 sons, two had already fallen in battle and three had died before they were even old enough to fight. His daughters had faired a little better, with only two dying in attacks and one perishing before she reached mating age to a childhood disease. It had been hard losing his own father, young for a krogan at only 238 with centuries before him. Gargo didn't mourn him though, his older brother was now clan chief. As the youngest survivor of his father's blooded sons he had been the one to swear the blood oath to kill the dragon or die trying. The fact that he had succeeded was completely miraculous. Hundreds of krogan had sworn blood oath to kill that beast in their time. All of them had died gloriously, but until Gargo none had succeeded.

Gargo Dragonslayer. That was his name now, he had his own clan; Clan Gargo. His sons and daughters and his concubine would take up the name, as would his asari child. There was great honor in that, and when they returned there would be great feasting and an epic composed in Gargo's honor for slaying the abombination. However, that epic would be remembered not for the slaying of the beast, but what had been found in the beasts lair.

Glancing over at The Shepard, Gargo allowed tears of joy to leak down his face. The Shepard had returned. His sons and daughters would no longer need to be lain upon the alter of battle. The Age of Iron was soon to be over. A new age, perhaps the Age of Peace, would soon begin. A god walked the mortal realms, and surely he would cast back the gods of death as he had done in the Age of Apocalypse. And Gargo Dragonslayer would stand at his side, gladly dying that his kith and kin might live. He would live on in legend, as did Urdnot Wrex and his son Urnot Grunt who had been buried for three days before being resurrected by the Shepard so he could find the seven chaos gems and defeat the beast Egmon. Gargo Dragonslayer, finder of the Shepard. It had a ring to it.

**Shepard**

At first, the looks of adoration and vapid loyalty had been sort of nice. After all, Shepard was used to having to do absurdly ridiculous things like assaulting an entire mercenary compound, stealing priceless artifacts from warlords or killing god damn THRESHER MAWS to secure people's loyalty. Then, exactly what those looks meant started to become clear.

"At once, O Shepard."

"Does my Lord require food?"

"Will the Shepard bless my crossbow?"

"What does the Shepard think of..."

These people didn't think he was Commander Shepard, a resourceful, capable, badass SPECTER who killed Reapers and united races. These people thought he was a freaking GOD. That had become obvious once someone had asked him what it had been like to part the waters and summon forth a Leviathan of the deep after communing with the gods for three days and three nights to battle the demon princess of the night wind. And when everyone else had ACTUALLY THOUGHT HAD DONE THAT CRAP.

It had been even worse when he realized that the children they seemed to think he had had with Miranda turned out to more or less be the bastardized versions of Romulous and Remus, the biblical Adam and Eve, and what he was fairly certain was a remix of Frank Herbert's the God Emperor of Dune, with Eve baring Adam's son who turned into a Thresher Maw that ate the moon and gave enlightenment to the people.

"Alright people, break time." Shepard declared when they reached the shelter of an oasis around sun set. "About how far are we from the edge of these wastes?"

"Another days travel if we continue at our present pace O mighty one." Gargo told him.

"Right, good place to camp then. Everyone take five, then meet me back here. We're going to have story time." Shepard ordered.

The look of pure ecstasy on everyone's face made him want to slap them silly. It was like they were just told they were getting a visit from Santa Claus, and he was PERSONALLY going to ask them what they wanted for Hanukah.

"Get moving! Get some water, relax a bit." Shepard ordered, and everyone wandered away eagerly chatting about what they wanted to hear about.

Hart apparently wanted to hear about the time Shepard had saved the Archangel from the three warriors of the end by telling him to cast his right eye down a well and ask for wisdom, and giving him to two ravens Eedi and Michelle to spy on the enemy for him.

That was actually better then what Shali wanted. She wanted to hear about the time Tali'Zorah had snuck into a garden and convinced the wizard Legionis to give her the secret for the making of geth by having her loyal servant Reegar bring him six fruits from the tree of the Buddah.

Those two he could at least figure out the sources of, a bad mix of Norse Mythology and the time he had saved Garrus from all the mercs on Omega for Hart, and some nonsense about Tali making peace between the quarians and the geth and what he was pretty sure was Journey to the West.

He did not know, however, who the HELL Goku Saiyan was and when on earth he had helped him defeat the ice demon prince to gather the seven dragon balls to wish his true love Cortana the High Priestess of Uencee back to life, or why on earth Tol'riah thought it was the greatest love story ever told. Equally baffling was why Gorgo thought he had once had tamed the mighty giant purple kakliosaur Barni, or why that resulted in the blood feud between the humans and turians being resolved.

"Christ, if this keeps up they're going to think I signed the Declaration of Independence or created eezo." Shepard muttered to himself as he gathered wood for a campfire.

"Did you hear that? He's going to tell us about how he stole holy eezo from the high god Hackett and brought it to the peoples!" Shali excitedly told Hart.

At that point, Shepard decided keeping his mouth shut until he had enacted his plan was going to be the best bet.

Exactly five minutes after he told them to break, everyone was back with offerings of drink and food. He accpepted a little food and drink, though he was careful to ask Shali if it was safe from a human to eat quarian food.

"Of course it is? Why would it not be? Quarian cooks are highly sought after in the halls of human chieftains."

"But isn't quarian food, you know, poisonous to humans and vice versa?"

Everyone just looked at him like he was crazy. "Of course not, everyone eats the same kind of food. Is this a test Shepard?" Gargo asked.

"Right. You all passed. Good job."

The looks of idiotic happiness on their faces made Shepard want to puke.

"Right, story time. Hart, you go first. Tell ME a story about what YOU think I did at some point, and then we go around the circle. At the end, I'll tell you how it all really happened."

Hart puffed out his chest and began.

**Hart**

Being selected to go first by Shepard was a great honor for Hart, and one he was going to do his best to live up to. The story of how Archangel gave up an eye to gain wisdom was familiar to him, so he started right in.

_Once, Archangel, lord of the turians, was challenged by the three Warriors of the End. They were powerful and brutal beings of the underworld who thought that if they could slay the Archangel they would gain his great powers for themselves. So powerful were they together, that even Archangel could not defeat them un-aided. He appealed to The Shepard for aid, but the Shepard was in his long sleep after slaying the demon prince Sovereign in single combat. _

_In despair, Archangel lay down beside his master's bed and slept, hoping that he would gain some of the Shepard's strength. In his dream, Shepard appeared to Archangel and told him how to defeat the Warriors of the End. _

_"Go to the swamps of Dahgobah There you will find an ancient well guarded by the great salarian sage Mordin. Give him a sacrifice to offer to his mystic well, and your victory will be assured."_

_At once Archangel awoke and mounted his mighty steed Shadowfax. They rode across the land to the dark swamps of Dahgobah. Along the way he fought many foes and had many trials, but that is a story for another day. _

_When he arrived at the Swamp, Archangel spent five days and five nights searching for Mordin the Sage and fighting off vorcha and beasts. When he had Shadowfax had exhausted all their strength, Archangel rested. While he was preparing his campfire, an old salarian in a tattered robe came to him. _

_"Hungry, have not eaten for days. Will soon begin suffering signs of malnutrition. Spare food for old man?"_

_Archangel laughed and gave the salarian the largest portion of his meal. _

_"Eat, noble Salarian. For I have heard of this trick before, and know you to be none other than the Great Sage Mordin."_

_The salarian cast off his robes, revealing himself._

_"Excellent, prefer to work with bright pupils. Usually takes many hints for students to understand. Glad to have someone who might appreciate my wisdom." _

_"I seek your mystic well. Shepard told me I was to make a sacrifice at it so I could defeat the Warriors of the End."_

_Sage Mordin nodded as he ate Archangels rations. "Ah, know of the warriors. Warrior of the Blue Sun, disciplined, willing to negotiate with others. Likely the leader. Warrior of the Yellow Eclipse, tricky, likes to find weakness and exploit it, very intelligent. Warrior of the Red Blood, strong, brutal, direct. To defeat these three, you must sacrifice half the light of the world. Come, I will show you my well."_

_Mordin led Archangel to the well and left him to ponder his sacrifice. How could he give up half the light of the world? Was he to blind the eyes of the sun god? That thought struck him, and he understood. Immediately, Archangel reached a talon into his right eye socket and pulled out the eye and cast it into the well. A blue witch light erupted from the well, and two ravens flew from it to perch on his shoulders. _

_"I am Eedi." One of them whispered. _

_"And I Michelle." The other said, "We will spy upon your enemies and grant you the wisdom to defeat your foes." _

_Archangel returned to Shadowfax and rode to face the Warriors of the End. As he rode, Michelle and Eedi spied on his foes and returned to whisper their secrets in his ear. _

_"The Warrior of the Yellow Eclipse intends to face you first. He will summon his magic geths, but if you make an amulet from the first tooth of a varren and mount it in the wood of a ancient oak born on a river bend, the geths will turn on their master and destroy him." _

_So Archangel found a varren cub, just old enough to shed it's first tooth and pryed it loose, mounting it in the wood of an oak on the bend of the river Isen. _

_Next, the ravens told him of the Warrior of the Red Blood. "He can heal any wound, save one inflicted by fire." _

_So Archangel made an arrow and gave it a head forged with metal from the Ever Burning Mountain of Dhoom. _

_Last the ravens told him of the Warrior of the Blue Son. "He intends to ride a bird of metal into the battle, but if can find it's nest and feed it rocks, it will not be able to fly." _

_So the night before the battle, Archangel snuck into the birds nest and fed it twelve large rocks. _

_The day of the battle came, and first the Warrior of the Yellow Sun challenged Archangel. He summoned forth his geths, but Archangel held forth his amulet and commanded the geths to slay their master. The warrior of the Yellow Sun defeated the geths, but so weakened was he that Archangel slew him with a single arrow from his bow. _

_Seeing his brother fall in battle, The Warrior of the Red Blood gave a mighty cry and leapt to fight Archangel. But before he could strike a single blow Archangel put his everburning arrow into the Eye of the Warrior. The warrior laughed, saying, "I can heal any wound!" _

_But the arrows fire kept him from healing, and he was consumed by flames. _

_Seeing that his brothers had been slain by trickery, the Warrior of the Blue Sun checked his metal bird and saw that Archangel and fed it rocks in the night. _

_"O Archangel," The Blue Warrior cried, "You have slain my brothers, so I must kill you. But you are weary, and the fight would not be fair. First, let us drink to our health." _

_He ordered his servants to bring forth cups, but ordered them to poison one emblazoned with the figure of a pestle._

_Eidee saw this and whispered in Archangels ear, "Do not drink from the vestle with the pestle. The chalice with the palace is the brew that is true." _

_"So the vessel with the pestle has a pellet full of poison and chalice with the palace is the brew that is true?" Archangel asked. _

_"Yes. Get it?"_

_"Got it."_

_"Good."_

_But the Blue Warriors servant tripped and broke the chalice from the palace and spilled the wine from the vessel with the pestle. So they refilled the vessel and brought a flagon with a dragon, poisoning the vessel with pestle again._

_Michelle saw this and perched on Archangels shoulder. "They switched the drinks. The vessel with the pestle has the pellet with the poison and the flagon with the dragon is the brew that tis true." _

_"So the vessel with the pestle is the vessel that is poisoned and the flagon with the dragon is the brew that is true?"  
"Yes, get it?" _

_"Got it." _

_"Good."_

_But the Blue Warrior saw that Archangel's spies had seen them, and at the last moment waved the servant off. _

_"Enough, I have seen your spies, but now you will have no tricks!" And charged Archangel._

_But Eedi and Michelle clawed at his eyes, and while he was distracted Archangel slew him with his blade. Victorious, he gave thanks to the spirits and blessed his ravens, saying, "Surely, Mordin is the very model of a sage and a salarian!"_

When Hart finished, he looked expectantly at the Shepard, who was resting his head in his hands. By the spirits, he prayed he had done the story justice!

**Shepard**

When Hart mentioned "Archangel" going to "The Dahgobah Swamps" Shepard developed a massive migraine. He dearly wished for some medi-gel when he realized that Mordin was Yoda, and that Garrus had basically become the bastard child of Odin and Luke Skywalker in these peoples mythos. When Hart finally finished, he looked up.

"Right. We're going to pause here, because there was so much bullshit in that I am going to have to straighten you out."

Everyone's jaw dropped as he stood and started pacing.

"Firstly, you've got half a dozen mythologies mixed up in there. Seriously, Star Wars, Lords of the Rings, Odin Allfather, and some other stuff I don't even WANT to know about. Let me give it to you straight."

He stopped and took a deep breath. "Archangel was just a nick name for my best friend. He was a turian named Garrus Vakarian. When we first met, he was just a kid, a rookie cop... Er, guard, and he was frustrated because his boss wouldn't let him do a proper investigation on a rogue... Warrior. His name was Saran Arterius, and he was a normal turian. He was Indoctrinated, I guess you would say 'tainted' by the Reaper Sovereign.

"Anyway, after the mission I did get killed. I was resurrected," They all perked up at that, "But it wasn't by the gods or whatever you think. I was turned into a half geth by Miranda Lawson, my eventual lover." He choked up at that part. It was hard to believe she was really gone, that he would never she her again.

"While I was dead, Garrus took the law into his own hands on a... city? Yeah, a city named Omega. There were some mercenary groups there, and he built a team and cracked down on them. You kinda got the names right, it was the Blue Suns, the Eclipse, and the Blood Pack, but they were blue, yellow and red. Anyway, they teamed up, took down Garrus's team and trapped him. I came in with Miranda and Jacob Taylor and rescued his ass. There were, uh, geths, but we reprogrammed them. There was no magic amulet. I did have to incinerate Garm the leader to kill him. He was a krogan with a scary regen factor, tough bastard. And there was a metal bird, except it was more of... I guess you would say flying geth? Dragon? Whatever, I did sabotage that, though it was more like 'planted a grenade in its exhaust port' then 'fed it rocks.'

"You see, I am not a god. I am not divine, I am not a legendary super being. I refuse to be made into what I am not. I am just a man, a mortal, human man. I have killed Reapers, true, but it was always with help and heavy weapons, not magic or angels or whatever mystical bullshit you've come up with. I'm sorry, but story time is over. We can talk more later. Goodnight."

With that, Shepard turned on his heels and left four very confused people behind him while he stalked off to find a place to lay down. What the hell had he gotten himself into this time?

**Hart**

Garrus Vakerian. That was Archangels name. It had been a little upsetting to be told that the story was all wrong, but he was sure that Shepard just didn't know some of the details, and the rest had just been built up a little. Some change after all, was to be expected. Not even the asari were sure how long ago The Age of Apocalypse really was. Now though, Hart knew Archangels name. Though he was not of the Vakarian family, it was an honor to know the name of the greatest of turian heroes. It had been a bit strange though that The Shepard hadn't mentioned Eedi or Michelle. He would have to ask about the ravens and the missing eye later.

Standing a little straighter, Hart puffed out his chest. He had volunteered for first watch, and he would not disappoint The Shepard. Besides, now he knew the name of a god. And that was something special indeed.

_Authors Note:_

_Bonus points if you can name every pop-culture reference this chapter makes. Leave them in a review and win a cookie. Or something. _


	4. Chapter 4

**Shepard**

To be blunt, Shepard was pissed.

He had no clue where the hell he was, or even when he was. For all he knew he was on Thessia or Tuckana or some backwater he had never even heard of. All that was just icing on the cake though. Even after trying to refuse to be made into a god, the others attitudes where even crummier. It wasn't that they were griping or whining. Shepard would have welcomed a good belly ache instead of the continued looks of adoration and worship.

"Bunch of FNGs." He grumbled, "Battle hardened warriors, and they are acting like FNGs."

It was true that they were skilled. Several times Reaper forms had attacked them, one time a brute pack had cornered them in a canyon and Shepard thought things would get a little dicey. It was tricky sure, but Gargo could take a brute in hand to hand even with his busted axe, and the others were highly trained combatants that could keep themselves from getting smashed. It was almost like working with his old squad, right down to the mix of aliens.

Except when he brought up the fact that they were aliens, they just looked at him funny.

"What do you mean, aliens?" Shali had asked, "We all come from the same lands. It is not as if we are drell from the desert beyond the wastes or hanar from the far ocean."

"But you're not the same species. Everyone is from a different homeworld." Shepard explained, rapidly losing his patience.

"Our homelands are different, true, but some krogan have been born in the order lands." Gargo had rumbled, "My own daughter is asari and she was born in the Empire; she is considered krogan."

"But krogan are from Tuchanka! Asari from Thessia! Quarians from Rannoch! Turians from Palaven! Humans from Earth!"

"No, you make geth from earth." Shali had corrected him, "All races come from their mothers' wombs. Though I suppose you could say the god Rannoch made the quarians."

That had made him storm off towards their destination again. How could races forget where they originated from? Worse still, how could those places become gods?

"How far?" Shepard demanded, turning towards Tol'riah.

"Nearly there. We are within the land patrolled by the Empire's warriors. We should be picked up soon."

"Fantastic. Maybe then I can get some answers."

After another few minutes of angrily stalking forward, Hart called, "There, on the horizon! I see warriors on kakliosaurs."

"Can we signal them?" Shepard asked, hoping that these krogan would be slightly less inclined to worship him.

"I have contacted them." Tol'riah assured him, "They will be here shortly."

"You have communicators?" That would be good, a little tech would cheer him right up.

"They have no shaman with them, but I can reach their minds from here."

"Huh?" Shepard blinked, trying to figure out what the asari was telling him. "You're talking to them with your mind?"

Now it was Tol'riah's turn to be confused. "Yes, of course. Could not justicars do so in your time? Legends say you could speak to others across greater distances then we can now."

"No, that's a new one." And a disturbing one. Bad enough that the Leviathans could mind control. If everyone could do it... "We had to use communicators, like my omnitool."

"You mean technosorcery?" Shali asked, "Some technosorcers can talk to geth at distances, or through sacred rites."

"No, no I really don't."

**Tol'Riah**

In her two centuries of life, Tol'riah had never met a human quite like The Shepard. To be sure, he was hardly human, a god given flesh walking among the moral races. Still, he did not quite act like she had expected a god, even a human god, to act. He slew foes with great alacrity, the destruction of the dark god's mortal coil had been a deed worthy of legend and his slaughter of a brute by leaping astride the beast and plunging his glowing blade into its skull had been a feet few warriors could attempt, much less survive. And yet, something was off.

The protests at his deification Tol'riah had at first taken as either modesty or perhaps an attempt at deception. The continued protests combined with the feats of strength and bravery made her wonder however. How long had it been since Shepard walked the earth? It was surely far more then several thousand years, the eldest of the matriarchs, Une'Della was to celebrate her 841st birthday this coming winter, and she could not remember even speaking to anyone who had known someone who knew The Shepard. The oldest of tomes merely mentioned other works that were firsthand accounts of his lifetime, and those tomes were old beyond reckoning.

Tol'riah herself was still in her Maiden stage, though she had birthed a daughter at Gargo's request. She could not recall a time when the world was not as it currently was; the four lands under siege on all sides struggling against foes within and without. It had been long since she had even seen a drell trader or an elcor caravan. War-torn lands such as theirs were not frequently destinations of merchants. Now that The Shepard was found though, there could be a chance for peace once he had destroyed Harbinger once and for all.

She had not told the approaching warriors who was accompanying them though, and turned to Gargo, speaking to him with her mind.

_My love, there is something that troubles me. _

_Speak, my heart. _

_The Shepard acts strangely, not as a god should. If we had not seen his mighty deeds, we ourselves would doubt._

_True, though I will gladly destroy any who besmirch his name. _

_I would prefer that not be necessary. Perhaps discretion would be wise. _

_What do you mean? Would you seek to hide the news of the Shepard?_

_Yes, at least until we have spoken to the clan shaman. _

_That may be wise. Traitors and spies lurk around every corner. Your wisdom ever amazes me Tol'riah. _

"Lord Shepard, would you consent to hiding yourself for a time?" Gargo asked.

The Shepard quirked his eyebrow, "What, you mean like behind a rock or something?"

"No sire, your true self from the warriors" Tol'riah explained," it may be prudent to shroud yourself in secrecy for a time."

"Wait, you mean you would all stop acting like I'm a god and promise to act like I'm just an ordinary shmuck?"

Gargo nodded. "Exactly."

A huge, almost maniacal grin formed on The Shepard's face. "Maybe there is a God. Sign me up for that!"

"Then you wish to be incognito?" Gargo prompted.

"I don't think there's a strong enough way for me to say FUCK YES!"

The Shepard's language continued to slightly baffle Tol'riah, though it did confirm that he was a god. After all, their way of speaking would be far removed from mortals.

"Then listen, Hart, Shali. Do not refer to The Shepard as a god, or treat him differently then you would any other." Gargo instructed. "We shall have to think of a name for him though."

"Just call me David. It's my name anyway." Shepard told them. "I'm just a wandering man you picked up. Got it?"

"Very well, David Wanderer." Gargo agreed. "You shall be my boon companion for now."

"Right." The Shepard, or rather David, agreed.

"Hail Gargo Dragonslayer!" Shouted one of the approaching riders, the leader by his markings. "I see your quest was successful! There shall be great feasting in our halls tonight!"

"Indeed there shall be, Outrider. I see you are from Clan Grunt, what are you doing so far from your lands?"

"Your brother, Urdnot Tarvik, has taken a bride from our clan. We won the test of arms, and so earned the right to ride patrol looking for you." The Grunt leader explained, "I confess Dragonslayer, we did not expect to see you again in this life."

The news of the marrigge did not surprise Tol'riah. Grunt was also a strong clan, and strengthening the ties between Urdnot and Grunt was a wise choice on Tarvik's part. Patrol and their lack of faith in Gargo and her' success was equally unsurprising, she had thought they would fail as well in truth.

"And I did not expect to return to the lands of my Ancestors." Gargo laughed, "But with the aid of my boon companions, I succeed. This is Lieutenant Hart of the Order, Shali of House Zorah, and David Wanderer. My mate, Tol'riah, you know of."

"Indeed. Welcome back to the Empire justicar. And welcome, boon companions of the Dragonslayer! I am Grunt Jalip. Come, we shall escort you back to Urdnot Lands."

Jalip suddenly barked a laugh, "Excuse me, GARGO lands. This is a mighty day indeed!"

**Shali**

Riding on a kakliosaur was a new experience for Shali. The order preferred to use four legged geth as mounts, and riding an armature was very different from riding on a living creature. The novelty quickly wore off though, and it rapidly became an uncomfortable experience. Quarians were not meant to sit in saddles designed for krogan, even if they had a krogan holding them on.

Shalie endured though, as befitted a daughter of House Zorah. Talking with the warrior carrying her was also interesting. He was Grunt Pelki, and had spent more than a few years patrolling the Wastes.

"Are there many dragons in these parts?" Shali asked.

"Just the one that I know of, though you and the Dragonslayer took care of that. Lucky for everyone Gargo came along and rescued you when he did. Would have been bad if a technosorcerer had been corrupted."

"Does your clan have many technosorcerors?"

"No, Grunt has never had technosorcery or witchcraft in abundance. We fight as our name sake, the god Grunt did. With brawn, courage and the wisdom of the ancients!"

"That's impressive, I don't know what the Order would do without our geth to bolster our warriors."

"Hmph, probably make do. I've fought with turians and quarians before. Turians are tough sons of varren, and the quarians are sneakier then salarians when they have to be."

"Have you fought with many races?"

"Pretty much all of the ones from the four kingdoms. Even fought with a trained vorcha once. I'm surprised you found a human by himself out in the wastes, they usually stick nearer to settlements if they're sell swords or glory seekers."

Thinking fast, Shali said, "I wouldn't know, he was with Gargo when they found me. Perhaps he wanted to be the one to slay a dragon."

"Hmm, could be, though usually that's suicide. Our clan chiefs younger brother swore a blood oath to kill the same beast and left with five warriors. They died gloriously I'm sure, but we never heard of them again once they went into the wastes."

Relieved that the krogan had accepted the explanation, Shali tried to change the subject. "When was that?"

"Oh, about 60 years ago now. The dragon was raiding further west, into our lands and..."

The old warrior rumbled on, happy to tell stories of his clan. Shali was grateful, as she did not want to talk about her own family. House Zorah was the closest thing the quarians had to royalty. Though the Council of the Order ruled, a body of five that consisted of the Lord Marshal of the Order, The High Priest of the Ancestors, the Arch Technosorceror, the Grange Master, and the Voice of the Spirits, currently two members of house Zorah sat on the council. Her own mother was Arch Technosorceror, and her great uncle was Grange Master. Despite the fact that Shali was third of six children and thus neither heir nor blood bonded, great things were expected of her.

The problem was, Shali did not feel especially great. She was a talented technosorceror, but not one who's skill was legendary. She could be clumsy and felt horribly naive when compared to her eldest brother who was already a Captain of the Wall. Perhaps though, with the discovery of The Shepard she could finally make her mark on the world.

She glanced over at the human, absently adjusting her veil so that it kept her eyes covered. It wouldn't do for him to think of her as a loose woman who lowered her veil to any man she met. Shale was desperate to ask The Shepard just what the goddess Tali'Zorah had been like. Had she been an otherworldly being, or had she been more like an ordinary quarian?

The Shepard was certainly far more human than Shali had envisioned. When she had heard the stories, Shali had envisioned a man with skin of pure light, eyes of diamonds and a sword that crackled with power and smote dark gods. He certainly had the mystic sword that smote evil, but he was distinctly lacking in anything even remotely godly in the appearance department. He did have a few scars that glowed, but Shali believed him when he said they were simply geth grafts. She had seen soldiers with geth arms before, though none with such flawless joinings.

"There it is, Iron Warriors hold!" Gargo bellowed from the lead kakliosaur.

Shali squinted through the dust, and saw a stone wall surrounding a tall keep of black granite. Farm land growing hardy vegetables like squash and corn surrounded the fortification, where workers labored. Nearby lay stacks of weapons and armor. This close to the wastes the krogan worked with a hoe in one claw and an axe in the other.

As the party drew near, Gargo leaped from his mount and held his shield high shouting, "BEHOLD! I Urdnot Gargo have returned to you, my blood oath fulfilled! I have slain the fel dragon of the wastes, and avenged the death of my father! I AM GARGO DRAGONSLAYER!"

The krogan within hearing distanced stopped their work and began to leap into the air, pounding their fists together as they slammed into the ground. "DRAGONSLAYER! DRAGONSLAYER! DRAGONSLAYER!"

The cry was taken up all throughout the hold, and before long a small blue child rushed forward, leaping into Gargo's embrace.

"Daddy! Daddy you came back!"

"I did my child, I did. You have a new name now, no longer are Urdnot Polinna, now you are Gargo Polinna! Daughter of two Dragonslayers!"

Moved by the touching scene, Shali glanced away and found herself meeting the gaze of The Shepard. To her surprise, tears were streaming down his face. He closed his eyes and mouthed something. With a start, Shali realized she recognized what it was. Miranda.

**Shepard**

David had promised himself he wouldn't mourn Miranda's passing. She had probably lived a long, full life after the Reapers were defeated, and it wasn't like crying was going to bring her back. He had also promised himself that he wouldn't waste time moping about waking up in a strange time and place. There wasn't any going back. Those vows melted away when he saw the small asari child embracing her krogan father and her mother. That was what he had been fighting for, for all live, everywhere. To see a little girl crying because her mother and father had come back to her after fighting the Reapers was the perfect reward.

Yet it was also one of the most painful thing she had ever seen. There would be no homecoming for him, no return to his squad or Miranda. He had been dead and buried, lost for all time as far as his old gang was concerned. But seeing this little girl...

"Damn. Guess I'm going to have to keep fighting after all." Shepard muttered, wiping away his tears.

"Why is that, Shep- David." Shali asked, coming over and patting the kakliosaur he was still sitting on top of.

"Gorgo and Tol'riah's little girl. I was just about to give up on you people. This god nonsense was getting out of hand. But seeing that little girl, seeing how much that family loves each other... I'll keep fighting the Reaper's until the day I die, and a bit after too if things stay the same."

"A good plan Wanderer!" A Grunt warrior shouted, coming up and slapping Shepard in the back.

Shali winced, probably wondering if that was blasphemy. The Shepard didn't seem mind though, he seemed to think it was nice to be treated as just another solider again.

"Guess it is! But don't we have a party or something? It feels like it's been a thousand years since I had something to drink!"

That got the warrior to laugh, and more importantly to lead Shepard to where the festivities where already beginning. A feast day had already been declared, and the krogan were quickly getting ready to have the party of the century. Alcohol was served, meat roasted, and songs sung. As a member of the Dragon Slayer's party, Shepard was toasted just as much as anyone else, and before long he had drank himself into a happy half stupor. He had a lot to forget, and only one night to do it.

**Gargo**

"You are certain?" The shaman asked, her many bracelets chiming softly as she paced back and forth.

"It can be no other. The runes spoke of a chained god, and we found him in the dragons lair. Then he slew an avatar of the dark god. He can be no other."

Continuing to pace, the shaman muttered to herself, shaking her head. Gargo watched placidly, knowing that his story sounded more than half mad. If he had not seen the magical blade appear from nowhere to smite The Shepard's foes, or opened the ancient Casket he had been buried inside he would not be quick to believe either.

"This is beyond the wisdom of a shaman of a small clan. We must go to the Capitol, the elder shamans will know what to do."

"We planned to take him to the matriarchs. The capitol is on the way though, and it would be good to speak to the Emperor of this."

"You will have to see him anyway to have your clan confirmed and your name entered in the annals of the warlords of old." The shaman stated, "I must accompany you. There are portents that must be read, things that must be done. The return of the Shepard is both boon and bane. He arises only because he must. The waste has grown restless, and attacks have been more frequent. If the Shepard returns to us, dark times are ahead."

"But he shall lead us through. As he did in ancient times." Hart stoutly stated. He had accompanied Gargo to the shaman, leaving the women to dote on Polinna.

Polinna. The very thought of his daughter brought a smile to Gargo's lips. He had never thought to see her again, and to hold her and feel her heart beat again was the most wonderful thing he had ever done, even more wonderful then when he had held her for the first time on her birthday.

"Yes, of course. None will question a god, if a god he be." The shaman's own smile was grim. "This would not be the first time false prophets have appeared."

"He makes no claim of godhood." Gargo found himself saying, "In fact he was almost eager to be counted as only a common warrior again."

"Truly?" The shaman asked.

"Yes, the Dragonslayer speaks true." Hart confirmed, "To hear him tell it, he is but a man. But no man could strike down a dark god's form given flesh the way he did."

"Then perhaps he is a man. We must take him to the Emperor and the elder shamans. They will know. Tonight, be merry. Other's watch for you, Gargo Dragonslayer. Go, hold your daughter."

Gargo bowed and left, Hart at his side.

"The shaman seemed troubled." Hart commented, "I would have thought she would be happy."

"She sees what I see. Dark times are not near, they are already here. The Shepard's return is not just our salvation, it is our doom. But to give my daughter a future, I would gladly march to my own doom."

Hart nodded thoughtfully. "As would I. It is a soldiers duty to lay down his life for kith and kin. I am with you, so long as my lady remains."

"Ha! You have seen the way she looks at the Shepard. She sees her Ancestor's brought to life before her eyes. She will follow him."

"Of course. Who would not follow the Shepard?" Hart laughed.

A sudden shriek ripped the night air, and Gargo drew his new axe. "Many. Looks like they are here."

"Banshee?" Hart asked, loading a bolt into his crossbow.

"Of course. Wouldn't be a proper krogan party without guests."

The two warriors broke into a run as the sounds of the party died away. The krogan may be celebrating, but the dark gods did not sleep quietly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hart**

The Reaper attack on a krogan stronghold reminded Hart of fighting off vorcha hordes at the wall. They had a strong, defensible position and highly trained fighters against an enemy that used swarm tactics and had to advance over an open field. The krogan had various engines of war like enormous bolt throwers, catapults and even an ancient geth battery that hurled bolts of arcane fire into the enemy ranks. Ranks of warriors fired crossbows, and the shamans called down lightning's upon their foes.

The difference was, vorcha had neither technosorcery nor witchcraft. They could develop resistance to the technosorcery the order employed or to the witchcraft the few turian or quarian knights used, but they had no magic of their own. The cultists and reapers had no such restraints. They were once mortals, and twisted humans, asari and krogan witches hurled bolts of sickening green energy at the krogan fortifications while brutes shambled forward.

"BRING DOWN THE BRUTES!" Chief Galgo roared, "LET THEM FEEL THE COMBINED FURY OF THREE CLANS!"

"URDNOT!"

"GRUNT!"

"DRAGONSLAYER!"

"THIS! IS! MY! BOOMSTICK!"

The last battlecry had Hart doing a double take. It had come from The Shepard, who had activated his fiery blade and was hurling balls of bright flame into the enemy ranks. Brutes crumbled when struck with the Shepard's magic, and Hart's own careful aim picked off the advancing enemy.

**SLAY THE SHEPARD. BRING HIS BODY TO ME. CONSUME THE OTHERS. **

The throbbing tones of an avatar of the dark gods pervaded the battlefield, and a smoking titan arose from the enemy ranks. It's head was a blank bolder wreathed in flames, and it shambled forward on its stubby legs, using the knuckles of its hands to drag itself along. Spikes jutted from its shoulders that glowed with green witchlight, and lighting crackled in the air around it.

A roar of bloodlust arose from the krogan as they spied their ancient foe. "THE GODS SMILE ON US BROTHERS! DESTROY THE DARK GOD!" Galgo bellowed above the din.

Hart reached into his quiver and drew out his final bolt that was blessed with holy eezo. It had been granted to him by Shali's mother, the Arch Technosorceress herself.

"Spirits guide my aim, and let me slay this mighty foe." Hart whispered as he sighted along his bow.

"Hey! Hart!" The Shepard shouted, running over to him. "You're pretty good with that thing. Got any ordinance that can take out something that big?"

Hart showed him the glowing bolt. "This, it was crafted by the Arch Technosorceress and is made with holy eezo. Will you add your own blessing?"

"Better, let me see that." The Shepard grabbed the bolt out of the crossbow and waved his glowing sword over it while he activated glowing runes of power.

"There, that should raise the yield on that sucker about 100 fold. Aim for that bastards eyes, Hart."

Inclining his head reverently, Hart took the bolt and placed it back on his crossbow. "I shall not fail."

"Just do it."

Chanting a liteny of aim, Hart slowed his breathing and aimed for the avatars blank head. It had no eyes, but Hart aimed for the highest concentration of fel flames and loosed.

"GET DOWN!" The Shepard ordered, dragging Hart behind the palisade.

No sooner had they hit the floor then the battlements shook as a shockwave hit them. A bright blue light illuminated the battlefield, and Hart was nearly blinded. When his vision finally cleared, he looked over the battlements at where the dark titan had stood. In it's place was a massive crater, and all around were strewn the wrecked remains of the Reaper horde. The few survivors wandered aimlessly or groaned in the dirt.

"HA! That was for Garrus, you son of a bitch! THE NAMES DAVID SHEPARD, HARBINGER! I KILLED SOVEREIGN, I KILLED THE REAPER ON RANNOCH, AND I'M COMING FOR YOU UGLY!" The Shepard crowed, thrusting his fist into the air in triumph.

Hart bowed his head to acknowledge of The Shepard's words, then turned to look around. The krogan warriors, their women and their children were all kneeling in awe. The Shepard was still calling curses and mockery down upon the Reapers, clearly still jubulant in his victory.

"I give thanks, O spirits, that I have lived to see this day." Hart whispered, kneeling himself and giving thanks. The Shepard had returned.

**Shepard**

When the Reaper's had attacked, Shepard had been half way to margaritaville. He had tried to sober up as best he could and threw as many tech attacks at the Reapers as he could. He was really wishing for his Disciple or Hornet, hell, he would even take a plain old Predator, when he saw Hart loading up with his crossbow. He had hit upon an idea then. Since the bolts were made of metal, he could probably mod them slightly with a few toxins or incidiary rounds. He doubted Hart had anything to take out the giant monster advacing on them, but it had been worth a try. The news that Hart had a bolt filled with almost 100 grams of eezo had been better then anything Shepard had hoped for. He had quickly added a few modifications to the bolt, it had already had some simple circuitry surprisingly, and then boom, no more Reaper.

Killing the Reaper combined with his rather inebriated state had made Shepard feel almost normal. He felt so good in fact, that he had passed out shortly thereafter from exhaustion and alcohol. So when he awoke the next morning with a smashing headache, he was more than a little irritated that his display on the wall had blown his cover.

"Sire, how can Clan Urdnot serve you?" Galgo, who was apparently Gargo's brother, go figure, had said as soon as Shepard's eyes had opened.

"No so looooouuud." He had groaned, and rolled over and gone back to sleep.

Apparently, everyone had taken that as an order of silence, because now that he was up and ready for breakfast, no one was talking. He could hear people whispering, but as soon as he entered into a room everyone shut up then kneeled, bowed, or even prostrated themselves. It was a guaranteed way to put Shepard in a foul mood so he grabbed some grub and stalked out to the battlements where he stood, munching on some hard bread and feeling generally pissed off at the galaxy.

"Mister Sir Lord Shepard? Did you really save mommy and daddy from the dragon?" A soft voice said from behind him.

Shepard turned, ready to let loose with a stream of profanity that would have made James Vega blush, when he saw that the person asking was Gargo and Tol'riah's little girl.

"Um, no, they saved me. But call me Shepard, none of those titles."

"OK." The little girl said, sitting down next to him and smoothing out her tunic. "What about the dark god? Did you kill that? And did you really fly on the wings of the angel Normandy? What about Miranda, was she pretty? Did you ever have a pet fish that granted wishes?"

The battery of questions made Shepard blink slowly, then he smiled and sat down, facing the curious child. "Well, I did kill some sort of Balrog thing, but your mom and dad helped, and so did Shali and Hart. If they hadn't distracted it, I never would have managed to kill it."

The child nodded seriously, her bright blue eyes sparkling as she waited for more.

"And I did fly on the Normandy, but it wasn't an angel, it was a ship, a er, sky ship that flew through the air."

The girl made a "woah" sound and giggled, covering her mouth.

"And yes, Miranda was pretty." Shepard found himself gazing off into the middle distance, thinking for Miranda's face. Of how she felt, laying beside him. Of the way the artifical light of the Normandy's core had made her skin glow on their first night together. His eyes misted over, and he shook with silent tears for all that he had lost.

"Shepard? Why are you crying?"

Snapping back into focus, Shepard found the asari girls face nearly touching his own, her face a picture of the sympathy only a child can find.

"I'm ok. I just miss Miranda. She's been dead a long time."

"I thought she lived with you in heaven. Did she have to leave, or did you have to leave?"

The innocence of the question made Shepard smile. It was easy to be mad at adults for believing fairy tales, but it was impossible to get angry at a little girl for being a little girl.

"I guess I had to leave. I'm sure she's still in heaven. What's your name again?"

" Polinna. But everyone calls me Polly. They also say that I'm a boy, but I checked. I'm a girl."

The frankness of Polly's tone made Shepard laugh. "And a very cute little girl too. How old are you?"

"I'm 10 and a half, but I grow slower than the other kids. Mommy says it's cause asari can be really old. Mommy is really old, she's even older then daddy and he's like a million."

They sat and talked for about half an hour, Polly asking questions about Shepard and giving surprising facts about herself, like the fact that she had her own sword and armor, but it was still just pretend, or that she had a pet varren cub she had named Mr. Fluffles. The best part was, Polly accepted pretty much any explanation that Shepard gave her without arguing. It helped that she was cute, and clearly didn't understand why everyone was making such a fuss over this nice man. It was the first time since he had woken up that Shepard felt truly at peace.

**Gargo**

When he had seen his daughter talking with The Shepard, Gargo's first instinct had been to rush up and escort his daughter away and apologize to the great god. The he had looked again, and realized that The Shepard looked relaxed and was laughing, enjoyed the company of his daughter. So Gargo had sat in the shade and watched, listening to his daughter talk with a god. He had smiled as well, closing his eyes and feeling proud of his daughter. It was an auspicious omen, and one that Gargo hoped boded well for Polinna's future.

Eventually, the two made their way down, Polinna riding on The Shepard's shoulders and squealing with pleasure. Standing, Gargo ambled over to them and smiled up at his daughter.

"Having fun are you?"

"Yes daddy! Shepard is so nice, are you sure he's a god? I thought gods lived in heaven and were all super serious, like this." Polinna screwed her face up in what she thought was a serious expression, sticking her lower lip out and showing her upper teeth in a good approximation of a krogan in deep thought.

"Haha," Gargo chuckled, "Perhaps this god is different."

"I told you Polly, I'm not a god. I'm just a man from Midnoir." The Shepard laughed, a goofy grin on his face, "Heck, I wasn't even an Admiral, and they were the closest things to gods we had in the Alliance."

"Is Midnoir in heaven? Is that where grandpa is?"

"Nope, it's in the Traverse" The Shepard explained," If it's still called that. I'm a little fuzzy as to where I am."

"Here silly!" Polinna giggled, "In Iron Warriors hold!"

"That is not the first time you have commented on being lost Shepard." Gargo rumbled, "Do you know how long you were sealed in the dragons horde? Has the land changed so much?"

"Either it has, or I've never been to this planet. I mean, even if I was on Earth, I wouldn't recognize anywhere that wasn't by an Alliance Base. Never had much leave back home."

"Planet. I do not know this word, yet you keep using it." Gargo said slowly, "What does it mean in mortal terms?"

"A planet is a ball daddy, where lots of people live. Shepard's been to lots of them on his flying ship."

"A ball? A childs toy?" Gargo asked, looking at the Shepard.

"It's a round object, like the one were on." Shepard stated, stamping his foot, "The galaxy is full of them. You know, they orbit the stars, where life is?"

"We live on the world, which spins as the fiery eye of Hackett give it light." Gargo stated, "Are you saying there are more?"

"Wait, so you know this is a world? What's it's name?" Shepard demanded, "Is this Eden Prime? Sur'Kesh? Which world?"

"It is the World. Only the World. There are no others I know of."

Shepard reached up and set Polinna down, kneeling to look in her eyes. "Polly, do you know how long it has been since I was alive? I mean, since I did all the things in your stories?"

"Forever," the little girl answered instantly. "Not even the matriarchs or shamans know, and they all are about a bijillion years old."

"Perhaps not forever little one." Gargo said, stooping down himself, "But it has been a long, long time. None can remember the Age of Apocalypse, the time in which you fought and destroyed the dark gods O Shepard. After the Age of Apocalypse came the Age of Darkness, when the wisdom of the ancients was lost and bleeding gods poisoned the land. Next came the Age of Growth, when green things returned to the lands and the people were able to spread and multiply. Then the Age of Restoration, when the peoples built their kingdoms and traveled the world. Now is the Age of Iron, when warriors once again test their mettle against the horrors of old.

"But you have returned Shepard. Now perhaps, we can have an Age of Peace. Not an age I expect to live in, but one perhaps my daughter can raise her children in. It is for this dream that I will follow you. I will gladly die that my children's children may know peace and prosperity that their forefather never knew."

Leaning back on his haunches, Shepard closed his eyes and sighed. "It's a lot to put on a man Gargo."

"But you are not a man Shepard, you are god."

"No I am not!" Shepard's eyes snapped open, flashing with anger. "I refuse to be a god Gargo! I will fight, I will lead, I will do everything in my power to stop the Reapers. But I am NOT a god. I can't do miracles, I can't raise the dead, and I sure as hell couldn't even stop that bastard Catalyst. I'll do anything I can Gargo, but I won't be a god."

Gargo considered Shepard's words, then shrugged. "Whether you claim to be a god or not is irrelevant. In my people's eyes, you are. Refuse all you want Shepard. You are what you are."

**Star Child**

Deep in the wastes, in the bleeding belly of the earth, the remains of a once great city lay. For millennia beyond reckoning, it had lain between the stars. It had been the doom of species beyond counting, their home that had let in the dark gods to harvest them. Now it was buried under tons of earth, a ruin that was only a husk of its former glory.

Deep within the ruins of the Forgotten City, a glowing being navigated it's ruin halls. As it moved it shifted and shimmered. Sometimes it hovered on buzzing wings, then it slithered on serpentine scales, now it strode upon human feet. It's body was pure light and energy, the being had long since scuffed off its physical form.

Beside it walked a being of blackest shadow that seemed to eat the light that touched it. It was covered in robs spun of the blackness between the stars, and it's form was indistinguishable in the blackness.

"What news of the world Harbinger?" The child asked, settling on the form of a four eyed race long since extinct. The child enjoyed the form of the protheans. They had been its last great triumph.

**GARDIAN HAS FAILED MY MASTER. HIS FORM HAS BEEN SHATTERED AND HIS CHARGE LOST.**

"Then the prophecy is coming true at last. Our time as prisoners in the delusions of these mortals is nearly over. Once more we shall rule the stars, no longer entrapped on this miserable speck of dust."

**HE WAS UNABLE TO COMPLETE HIS TASK. STARBLINDER'S WILL IS HIS OWN. **

"Is that a hint of resentment in your voice my friend?" The Star Child asked, a hint of a smile on his lips, "Did you attempt to slay him?"

**YES, MY MASTER. FORGIVE ME.**

The Star Child's prothean form vanish, replaced by a gigantic beast of light that looked like a cuttle fish made of stars and the size of a mountain.

**FOOL! DO YOU NOT KNOW THE PROPHECY! HAVE YOU NOT SEEN HOW THE WORLD, NAY, THE UNIVERSE HAS CHANGED? THESE PATHETIC MORTALS MUST BE SWAYED! THE STARBLINDER CANNOT KNOW HIS PLACE! THERE ARE NONE THAT REMAIN THAT CAN TELL HIM OF HIS DESTINY! OF THIS I HAVE MADE CERTAIN!**

Shrinking in the light, the darkness dipped, as if bowing before the might of its master.

**WHAT OF THE ASARI? THEY HAVE EVER RESISTED OUR INFLUENCE. STILL THEY STRIVE TO REMEMBER. **

In a flash, the beast vanished and the Star Child reappeared, now in the form of an asari youth.

"What of the asari, Harbinger? The work of T'Soni has been destroyed. None remember her work. None remember the calamity she and The Bitch brought upon us. We destroyed her last artifact a millennia ago."

**BUT IF ONE REMAINS MY MASTER...**

The asari of light sighed and shrugged. "Do as you wish. Have your pawns burn the city of the asari if you wish. Just ensure that Starblinder reaches me alive and intact. This order must be abolished. We WILL be restored to our glory."

**YES, O MY CREATOR. IT SHALL BE DONE.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Tol'riah**

Seeing her child with the Shepard blessed Tol'riah's heart immensely. She felt as though a burden was lifted from her as she watched, and realized she had always feared her daughter would be doomed to the same life as she. Polinna was being raised as a krogan; a male krogan. That meant she was to spend her life in the wastes, fighting the dark gods and their minions. This was the fate Tol'riah had known awaited her daughter when she agreed to conceive, Tol'riah had known this from the beginning. Still, she had hoped for a better life.

The Age of Iron had not been kind to the asari and krogan, just has it had been cruel to the other races. Despite the best efforts of the warriors of the Empire and the Justicars, both their races dwindled as did all the free kingdoms. There were too many foes on all sides ever pressing in; to many fell in battle, died to illness or other woes The fading of the races had been their doom, but now there was hope.

Prophecy for told of a dark time, when the dark gods would wake from their slumber and once again walk the earth. Dragons and titans were bad enough in and of themselves, but legend spoke of still more terrifying things then even those. Tol'riah had seen one such for herself: The avatar of Harbinger, chief and greatest of the dark gods. But Prophecy also spoke of a time when a hero would arise to cast down the dark gods again and bring peace back to all the nations. Until now, Tol'riah had feared that such a hero would not appear in time, that instead of a sudden apocalypse the slow grindstone of constant war would be the doom of the nations.

_"'When the sleeper wakes, so too does doom._

_Arise the dreamer, the lost is found._

_But along with hope, evil is bound._

_Again the dark gods wake._

_Three things for the hero to succeed:_

_The trove of stars from the lover spurned;_

_Wisdom of ancients the hero must find._

_The blood of old at the heroes right hand;_

_Power from a friend long dead._

_The blade of ancients forged in fire;_

_Kept by the one who knows the past._

_A choice for the hero; to continue or retire._

_Restore the stars to their rightful place._

_Or continue the spell and once again wake._

_Two paths for the hero, one they must choose._

_No choice is a choice;_

_This is already proved.'"_

"You speak the prophecy mate of Dragonslayer. Fitting, in these times."

Tol'riah turned to find the shaman at her side, watching as Shepard talked with Gargo and Polinna. "Yes. But what does it mean?"

"What indeed. The ancients gave us the words, but not their meaning. Perhaps the Shepard knows."

"He has said nothing of the prophecy, but he must know what he is to do."

"Truly? I have seen him. He is a man, not a god. A god once perhaps, but his long sleep has robbed him of his glory."

Gasping, Tol'riah whirled to face the shaman, her hand glowing with witchlight. "You speak blasphemy!"

"Do I?" The shaman grunted. "I have sought the wisdom of the ancients. Long was my meditation and far did I wander in the spirit world. I found no answers but this: The time is now, but a veil must be parted. The Shepard knows not what he is, nor does he know this world."

Frowning Tol'riah let her magic fade. "He has seemed... Different. I thought it was because he was a god. But he has repeatedly denied his own divinity."

"Shepard!" The shaman suddenly shouted.

He turned towards her, raising one of his eye brows. "What?"

"Are you a god?"

"F- er, no, definitely not."

"I see." The shaman swayed her voice taking on the quality of one possessed by the ancients. "You who are trained holy ways, teach the sleeper who he is. Awaken that which was given, find that which was never lost. This I foretell: Only those who found the Shepard may go on his journey. Your party must consist of those you leave this place with; no one can be sent back or be left behind. One more will join you on the road, a cunning thief that seeks to steal the light of the gods. Beware of those who are false friends for the road is watched."

Suddenly the foretelling left the shaman, and she slumped against a wall, panting. "There. That is all I can give you. Be well, Tol'riah Dragonslayer."

With that, the shaman shuffled off, leaving a perplexed justicar to stare after her. She was to guild the hero of legend? A very god in disguise? Her, a mere maiden? Goddess, what could she do?'

**Shepard**

For once, someone had actually believed him. The shaman had apparently decided he really wasn't a god after just one denial, a rather refreshing experience. Then she had said something to Tol'riah and stalked off to wherever grumpy old krogan women went. Strangely, Tol'riah seemed like she had seen a ghost, and Polinna scampered over to her and clung to the stunned asari's leg.

Hurrying over, Shepard demanded, "What's wrong? What did she say?"

"We must leave. As soon as possible." Tol'riah whispered, still dazed. "You must fulfill the prophecy."

"Prophecy? What prophecy?"

_"'When the sleeper wakes, so too does doom._

_Arise the dreamer, the lost is found._

_But along with hope, evil is bound._

_Again the dark gods wake._

_Three things for the hero to succeed:_

_The trove of stars from the lover spurned;_

_Wisdom of ancients the hero must find._

_The blood of old at the heroes right hand;_

_Power from a friend long dead._

_The blade of ancients forged in fire;_

_Kept by the one who knows the past._

_A choice for the hero; to continue or retire._

_Restore the stars to their rightful place._

_Or continue the spell and once again wake._

_Two paths for the hero, one they must choose._

_No choice is a choice;_

_This is already proved.'"_

It was Gargo who had chanted the passage, and halfway through Polinna had joined him.

"We learned that from the shaman." Polinna happily said then turned to Shepard." What does it mean?"

"Got me. What does it mean Gargo?"

The krogan warrior blinked. "You should know. It is about you, isn't it?"

Anger bubbled up inside of Shepard, but before he could erupt Tol'riah interrupted.

"The shaman says he has forgotten. He is no longer a god, he is now a mortal man."

Shepard was about to snap Tol'riah's head off, but he stopped. Being a fallen god who was now a man was better than being a god. "Whatever. All I know is I'm a man. But what's this about leaving, and what does all that nonsense mean?"

"There are none here who know." Tol'riah sighed, "We must continue with our original plan. You must go to the matriarchs."

"We should take him to the capitol. Have the Emperor and the High Shaman share their wisdom."

Glancing back and Tol'riah, Shepard frowned when she nodded. None of this was making any goddamn sense to him. "Emperor, Matriarchs, just take me somewhere I can get some answers. I need to know what I'm up against. What happened? Why are the Reapers still around? How did things get so different?"

"Then pray they have answers for us. Come, we must prepare to leave." Tol'riah stated.

"But mama you just got here!" Polly cried, tears forming in her eyes.

Tol'riah bent down and squeezed her daughter tightly. "I am sorry my heart. But we must go again. I will pray for you every day. Find peace in the embrace of the Goddess."

"Find peace." Polly answered, now weeping openly.

Feeling slightly depressed at having made a little girl cry, Shepard quickly got swept up in the preparations. He visited the blacksmith and had a suit of human armor adjusted for him. It was old, but fit him pretty good after a few hours' worth of work. It was a mail hauberk over padded armor, with a steel helm worked to resemble an eagle's head.

"May it guard you well, O Shepard." The blacksmith rumbled, "It has been an honor to work upon your armor."

"Thanks, hopefully this will keep all the sharp bits out and all the soft bits in." Shepard joked.

"Ha! A good outlook for a warrior. May the ancients guard your path."

"Same to you." Shepard answered evenly. He couldn't keep getting ticked off whenever some cultural difference came up. This was a different time with different ways. Time to start getting used to them.

The rest of the day was spent getting supplies, maps, blessings and a bit of basic training for Shepard. He was sticking with his omnitool for most of the work, but he had also picked up a short sword for close up work. You couldn't really hack with an omniblade after all.

The clan chief, Galgo, was the one who trained him. It was rather different from the close combat training Shepard had received back in basic, but he had done enough brawling and fighting that he had good instincts and was able to keep up with the massive krogan. He earned his share of bruises and minor cuts, but after an hour he was giving close to as good as he got.

"Not bad human. You act like you've never fought with a blade before, but your pretty good with your technosorcery." Galgo rumbled when they stopped. It was getting dark, and neither of them was dumb enough to risk serious injury in poor light.

"Thanks. You're not bad yourself. Give Wrex a run for his money maybe."

"Wrex? Urdnot Wrex, the great ancient?" Galgo asked.

"Yeah, he was pretty old when I knew him too." Shepard quipped.

Galgo's eyes glazed over, and the krogan stared off into the middle distance. "To think you knew him. I forgot you were a god while we fought. You certainly bleed like a man."

"Not a god, just a man." Shepard sighed, apparently not everyone was ready to get on to that boat.

Galgo shrugged. "It is what others believe that make us what we are Shepard. If all the peoples believe you are a god, you are one. Remember that."

"Yeah, sure." Shepard agreed, not wanting to rehash the argument.

"But even gods must eat! Come, we shall feast before you go. And perhaps share a barrel of rylcol again."

"Eh, easy on that for me, I've got to get up in the morning."

"Ha! Lightweight!"

Shepard did go easy on the booze, trying to keep his wits intact. It wasn't easy, he still had a lot of things he wanted to forget. Like the fact that absolutely every single person he had ever known was long ago dust by now. Except the Reapers.

"But I won you sons of bitchs." Shepard growled into his watered down mug, "We're still around and fighting. And as long as I live, you'll never win."

**Shali**

Venturing off again with the Shepard made Shali's pulse race. She and Hart seemed to be expected on this little venture, and Shali was determined to prove her and House Zorah's worth. When the new legends of the Shepard were written, it would not be said that she shirked her duty.

"Hard to believe we ride with a living god." Shali mused to Hart as they saddled up their kakliosaurs.

"Eh, maybe." Hart shrugged, "People always think prophecies won't come true in their time. Guess ours was just the generation that was wrong."

The turian's mandibles parted in a smile and he rested a talon on Shali's shoulder. "You'll do fine Mistress Zorah. While we're on this mission, don't think of me as your Lieutenant anymore."

"And don't think of me as your Mistress Hart. It was your bolt that felled that dark titan."

Twitching his mandibles in embarrassment, Hart shrugged. "The Shepard blessed me, and the spirits guided me."

"There had to be someone to bless and guide, and it was you, Hart."

The turian bowed his head in acquiescence. "As you command, Shali."

"Just don't think I'm going to lift my veil around you again." Shali teased, "Even if you did save me."

"Wouldn't dream of it!" Hart laughed, "When I get home, I have a bride waiting for me."

"Oh yes, Lilivus Mecanii, she was promised to you at birth was she not?"

"Yes, for my father's service to House Zorah." Hart confirmed, "She has very supportive hips. She will bear me many sons and daughters."

"Hart!" Shali gasped, staring at him in shock.

"We are comrades now, Shali." Hart stated, "I'll treat you like any other. I can say to a comrade that I think my future wife has supportive hips."

"Well, yes. Thank you, heart."

"Of course, Lady Zorah." And with an impudent twitch of his mandibles, Hart leaped up on his kakliosaur.

Shali was jealous, as a Lieutenant of the Long Watch and Sword of House Zorah Hart had experience with riding krogan style. She gingerly mounted up herself and turned her mount towards the Shepard's own. To her chagrin, she found herself laughing. The Shepard was fairing little better.

"Damn things, makes me wish for a mako." The Shepard growled as he wrestled with his reins.

"That was your geth mount, was it not?" Shali inquired.

"What do you mean by geth anyway?" He asked, frowning at her.

"Something made of earth, metal, stone and technosorcery of course." Shali answered, "Not something that lives like these infernal creatures, but something you can actually guide yourself.

"Huh. Can they think for themselves? You know, like an Artificial Intelligence?"

"Some geth, the most ancient ones or ones crafted by truly gifted geth-masons have been known to act on their own, but they still require orders." Shali explained.

"Huh. I'm gonna have to see one someday. I had a friend who was a geth, Legion. He was a person, even if he wasn't alive. He sacrificed himself to free his people, but it sounds like the geth you know are completely different."

"We know of Legion!" Shali assured The Shepard, "He was the Father of all Geth. Legend has it that he built a city for his own creations, and they could speak and think as any living being could. But it is said to exist beyond the Southern Sea and across the Great Desert, and none in the four kingdoms have had any news of those lands in an age."

The Shepard stared at her for a few seconds, and Shali felt her face heating. Then the shrugged and turned his piercing eyes away from her. "Maybe he did. Be nice if the geth survived."

His statement made little sense to Shali, but she held her tongue. Maybe he had been to that city once himself, and met geth that could talk. Maybe the geth that served the gods were as intelligent as salarians. Either way, Shali did not wish to lower her veil before him with silly questions.

Just as the silence between them began to grow awkward, Gargo arrived on his own kakliosaur, leading three more kakliosaurs behind his own burdened with their supplies.

"Are were ready to depart Shepard?" The krogan asked.

"I think we are." Shepard agreed. "Lead on."

The Iron Warriors populace had lined the pathway, cheering and waving as they departed. To them, the days of the prophecy were days of glory. Plenty of enemies to slay and a chance at peace at the end. Shali shuddered. Her own people did not love war. They had built the Wall to keep the vorcha out, but even that was not enough. Perhaps once her quest was finished, her own land could have peace as well.

**Shepard**

Being on the road was sort of nice Shepard guessed. Sure, the kakliosaurs stunk, and the trail was dusty and the day a bit warmer then was really comfortable, but it wasn't all bad. This was perhaps the first time he could remember a peaceful day. He didn't count the time he was imprisoned by the Reapers both because he couldn't remember any of it and because he was there against his will. This day though was nice. Unlike the wastes there were twisted trees and other scrubland plants (he didn't recognize any of them, if it wasn't edible, his survival training hadn't covered it) along with occasional birds and other wildlife.

All in all, it was rather relaxing, and the hours slowly went by and Shepard dozed contentedly. His kakliosaur was apparently Gargo's finest, and was a well trained beast that followed the mount in front of it placidly. By the time they stopped at midday at a watering hole to rest the mounts and eat some lunch, Shepard felt downright human again.

Until he stepped off his mount, and realized that he didn't have any of the right muscles for riding. He staggered, grabbing his large saddlebags to steady himself. The bag he grabbed titled, spilling some of its contents out onto the ground. As one of the bundles of hit the dirt, it squeaked, "Ouch!"

"The hell!" Shepard gasped, bouncing back and activating his omnitool.

Gingerly, Shepard inched forward and kicked the bundle.

"Hey, that hurts!" The clothes cried.

Groaning, Shepard reached into the bundle of clothing and drew out a small blue child.

Grinning sheepishly, Polly waved at him. "Hi."

"Polly, what are you doing here." Shepard sighed, "You're supposed to be back at the hold."

"But I wanted to come! I have witchcraft, and I can cook, and I won't eat much, and I'm not very heavy, and mommy and daddy just got back and-"

"What is this?" Gargo demanded, tromping over with Tol'riah. "Polinna!"

"Hi daddy." Polly cheerfully waved, "Hi mommy."

"You should not be here!" Gargo growled, "Now I've got to take you half a day's ride back to the hold! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

"She stays." Tol'riah firmly stated, putting a hand on Gargo's shoulder.

Shepard and Gargo glanced at one another, then turned to Tol'riah. "What?"

"The shaman told me we must not send any who leave with us back. The Goddess has spoken. My daughter stays."

"Yay!" Polinna shrieked, bouncing up and down in Shepard's grip. "I'm going on an adventure!"

"That does not change that fact that you are in trouble." Tol'riah snapped, her eyes blazing. "Shepard, if you would put my daughter down that I may spank her, I would appreciate it."

"Nooooo!" Polly moaned, "Have daddy do it!"

Blanching and looking away, Gargo seemed slightly embarrassed by the outburst, but held his silence as Tol'riah took the squealing child from Shepard and took her behind the kakliosaur, where cries of protest and sharp smacks found be heard.

"Let daddy do it?" Shepard asked, trying to contain his amusement.

Gargo coughed. "I'm too easy on her. I can't bring myself to spank her hard enough for her to really feel it. I've slain a hundred spawn of the dark gods and even a dragon, but I have not the strength to discipline my own child."

The admission brought the warrior up several notches in Shepard's opinion. "A soft hearted krogan!" He chuckled, "Who would believe it! Come on, show me again how to take care of these things. I've got a feeling I'm going to be riding one for a while..."

_Authors Note:_

_I would like to point out that I am playing this 100% straight as a fantasy, with the exception of Shepard. That might be important. Please post all insane theories as to where I am going with this in reviews or PM me. I'd love to see what people think ;)_


	7. Chapter 7

**Polinna**

Hi everybody! My name's Polinna, but you can call me Polly. I'm 10 and a half, and I am definitely a girl. I checked. My favorite color is blue, and I love to wear dresses but nobody lets me unless I get to dress myself and then I have to steal one because they all think I'm a boy which is silly.

Anyway, I get to tell you about the story now! Yay! Now, I got to ride on a kaliosaur who's name was some nasty warrior name like "Iron Hide" or "Skull Crusher" but he smelled nice so I named him Captain Major Snuffles. It was fun, daddy let's me ride on his-

What? Oh, you mean about Mr. Sir. Lord Shepard? OK Mr. Full-Paragon sir. What do you mean, fourth wall privileges? I don't get it.

Well, I was riding with Shepard and he asked me lots of silly questions. He's pretty silly, I like him better then I like the other gods in the stories. One of his questions was about Miranda, which was also pretty silly because she was his wife and they loved each other and did the mommy and daddy wrestling and had babies. So I think he probably knows her favorite color better than I do, but he was so nice I told him a story anyway.

A very long time ago, probably about the time my mom was born, the Bad People were wining. They had beat up the Shepard, who I was telling the story to and should have known this but he acted like he didn't, grownups are weird, and locked him away and I think he probably stayed there until mommy and daddy and the shy quarian and nice turian found him. But that didn't happen now cause it's not in the story.

Well Princess Miranda (I think she was a princess because she was pretty and she probably had loads of dresses) was very sad and she decided she needed to stop the Bad People. So she went to her bestest friends, Tali'Zorah and Saint Liara (who also were princesses) and said "We need to stop the bad people."

And they said "Yes we do Princess Miranda."

So then they used their very smart brains and came up with a special spell that would make all the bad people stop. But when they finished making it they realized that it would make all the peoples lose their magic that let them sail on the winds between spaces and would change the way holy eezo works (which I don't understand because I think it still works, at least it did last time I asked the shaman) and make everyone very sad. But they would be even MORE sad if the Bad People won because then everyone would be dead and Bad People! Which is not good.

So the three princesses decided that they had to cast their spell, and then the Bad People were defeated. Hurray! Then they had cake, and tea, and married princes, because that's what princesses do. Except Miranda, who was sad because Mr. Shepard was still beaten up and she couldn't marry him. I don't think he was a prince, but he was nice so it was OK.

The end!

**Shepard**

To be honest, Shepard was not quite sure what, exactly, he had expected to learn from Polly's story. It really didn't tell him much other then "Polly likes princesses." She had been pretty cute when she told it though, so it wasn't a total wash. Still, the long miles were getting sort of boring on a kakliosaur, and Shepard was discovering that riding a giant dinosaur required muscles that he didn't have. He had been in pretty good shape, all things considered, but he had a feeling he was going to be walking like Joker when he got off.

Joker. Another friend gone. It was hard, being a stranger in a strange land, a strange time. Sometimes Shepard almost felt like he could wake up and talk to Garrus again, or go down to the armory and work out with Vega, or chat up Tali, or... Or do anything normal, really.

"War's still here. Guess that's normal."

"Who's War? I told you, I named the kakliosaur Captain Major Snuffles."

"Sorry, Polly, I was just thinking out loud. I um, miss my friends."

"Oh me to! I like going to class and getting to fight! I'm pretty good at it, I don't have my witchy stuff yet but mommy says I'll grow into it."

"Witchy stuff? You mean biotics?"

"By-whatics? I mean the blue glowy stuff mommy does when I get an owie."

"Er, yeah, the blue glowy stuff. They're called biotics."

"Nuh-uh. Mommy says it's witchcraft or the Blessing of the Goddess. She never said anything about biwhatics."

Deciding that arguing with the equivalent of a five year old was below a legendary Specter, Shepard wisely decided now was not the time to further Polly's education. Though it was something to think about, and possibly ask Tol'riah.

When they made camp for the evening, Shepard did consult the justicar about biotics.

"I have never heard witchcraft referred to as such," She admitted. "Though from your time, it is not surprising that the names of a few things would change."

"Yeah, I guess." Shepard sighed and went back to sharpening his new sword. It's handle was carved with several runes, and it's blade engraved with more. Apparently, it had been the sword of a turian engineer and there were several microchips and programs built into the blade. It was like a very, very primitive omnitool, and it was rather perplexing that such backwards people could make a tech blade.

"Hey Heart, what do you know about a tech blade like this?" Shepard asked the turian.

Hart shrugged. "Not much. I can tell you that it's a journeyman's blade, and that it was made by the Order. Other than that? Ask Shali. She's the technosorceress."

"Ask me what?" The veiled woman asked, pausing in front of Shepard.

"What can you tell me about how these swords are made? It seems to function sort of like my omnitool, like it boosts my tech abilities."

Taking the sword gently in her hands, Shali carefully examined it. "Yes, it would boost any sorcery you have. It's not a particularly powerful focus, it's one we give to front line troops with minor abilities, what we call a journeyman's blade. Usually I use a sorcerer's staff, that's a much more powerful focus. But the krogan have very little technosorcery of their own, their bloodlines are much more inclined toward witchcraft."

"Wait, technosorcery is genetic?"

"I don't understand, what is 'genetic?"

"You know, passed down by your ancestors. In your DNA. Your blood, I guess you would say."

"Ah, yes, it is, like witchcraft. My blood is of House Zorah, the most ancient and powerful bloodline of Technosorcery there is. The turian's most powerful bloodline is House Appartus. There are other bloodlines, and all the houses have intermarried to some extent. Why, I have a little Appartus blood on my father's side."

"Wait, I thought you said Appartus was a TURIAN bloodline."

"Well, yes."

Shepard stood up and started pacing. "But that's impossible. How could a quarian have turian blood?"

Hart and Shali exchanged bemused glances. "By having a turian ancestor at some point. The turians and quarians have lived together for so long, surely you expected there to be at least a little inter-species breeding. It's considered dishonorable because such couplings are not as fertile, but it's not unheard of. Families usually deny such unions, but the half-breed offspring do crop up from time to time." Hart explained.

"But that's biologically impossible!" Shepard nearly screamed at the two of them. "Turians and quarians come from entirely different planets and biochemical backgrounds! I bought it when you said you could eat levo food, I figure some sort of enzyme bioengineering had been done to you. But to be able to interbreed! Next you're going to tell me you can cross a krogan with a human!"

"My father had a human concubine," Gargo piped up. "You met my half sister, Hegra, at the party. She's half human."

"That's fu-" Shepard glanced at Polly who was happily helping Gargo cook dinner, "-reaking impossible. It just can't happen. There is literally no logical, scientific, or biological way for that to happen. It's utterly, completely, totally impossible. It's inconceivable!"

Now it was everyone else's turn to look at Shepard like he was crazy. "But you know I am the father of Polinna. You do not question that." Gargo explained gently, as if to his daughter.

"But that's different! Asari use their biotics, witchcraft, whatever! To randomize their DNA. They don't actually take genetic material from another to make their embryos!"

Tol'riah nodded. "The words you use are strange, but I think you understand the meaning. Asari are different, we do not produce half-breeds when we couple as other races do. The child of an asari is always asari. It is not so with other races."

Shepard moved his lips, but no sound came out. This went against literally everything he knew about biology, which admittedly was not much. But he didn't need to be Mordin Solis to know that what his new companions were telling was by all he knew, nonsense. But they were serious. Completely and utterly serious. And once again, Shepard felt completely lost.

**Shali**

The Shepard's reaction to Shali's ancestry had been a shock, to say the least. It had just slipped out, normally that sort of topic wasn't something one discussed, not in polite company. Shali had to be more careful, letting her veil down that much was improper, even with boon companions. It was common knowledge the all the great houses had interbreed at least a little, sometimes in clandestine affairs, other in carefully arranged ploys to bolster the strength of the blood. After all, the strongest technosorceror in the last 150 years had been a half turian, half quarian mixture between two great houses, taking the strengths of both.

Slight revulsion, or perhaps polite disregard had been more in line with the reaction Shali had expected as soon as the words slipped out. But utter disbelief? She didn't know what to make of that. Everyone knew that the species could interbreed, it just wasn't something you talked about. Usually it wasn't a problem, with the exception of the ever alluring asari, most species didn't find each other attractive. Only the turians and quarians actually lived in large numbers together, so naturally their bloodlines were the most comingled. There were occasional krogan, human, salarian and even rumors of batarian mixes with turian and quarian, but no one talked about it. If a quarian happened to have four fingers, well, you just didn't ask if it was because one of their ancestors was a human. It wasn't polite.

If they brought up that they had a human ancestor, especially a famous or powerful one, it would be incredibly rude to tell them to their face that what they were talking about couldn't happen. Everyone knew that half-breeds happened, and between close friends and boon companions, such discussions might arise. Shali certainly was not ashamed of her turian blood, not when it has been a part of a carefully arranged marriage between Appartus and Zorah that hard resulted in a hero of near mythic proportions and strength.

As she watched the Shepard though, she realized he really didn't believe it was possible. She thought about discussing it with Hart, but while he was a good soldier, he was uneducated in the lore of the Ancestors and the ways of the ancients. That left Tol'riah or Gargo, and frankly Shali felt much more comfortable around the asari.

Once the others were asleep, Shali approached the justicar while she was on watch.

"I have a question for you, learned justicar." Shali timidly stated.

Tol'riah smiled at her. "Please, call me by my name. Or perhaps even simply Riah. We are companions, are we not?"

"Tol'riah then, may I ask you something?"

"Of course child, what is it?"

"The Shepard, he is strange, is he not? He has great power and many secrets of the past, yet he does not seem to understand how the world works? How is this possible?"

"The world changes as ages pass. It has been many ages since last the Shepard walked the earth. Perhaps in his time, Archangel was called Garrus Vakarian, and fought mercenaries instead of great demons and gods. But do not your priests pray to his spirit? Does not his form manifest in your temples?"

"It does. And this spirit is as our stories tell us, though details change with each retelling, the core could not be so different."

"The world changes. But the Shepard has not. He has been sealed away, unchanged, unmoving for ages so long even the wisest of sages have forgotten. And the gods, they do not tell us their stories on a whim, do they not? They may remind us of their deeds when our courage fails, or give us a parable that we may apply it's lessons, but they speak in riddles and mysteries like the prophecy. Perhaps even history changes as ages turn. I do not know. I am only a maiden, not a matriarch. In time, perhaps these mysteries will be made clear."

That made sense to Shali, and she bowed her head to Tol'riah. "Ever is the counsil of the asari wise. Thank you, justicar."

"It is my pleasure to give what little aid I may. Truth be told Shali, I am as disturbed by this as you. Is this the hero of legend? A man, not a god, who has lost his way so completely as to not know what even my daughter, barely out of swaddling, does? Was he somehow damaged, changed by the dark gods? I do not know, but it troubles me."

Shali turned her glowing eyes to look at the Shepard's still form. He seemed peaceful while he slept, though he snored rather loudly. "He seems a good man though."

"Indeed. And his hatred of the dark gods is real. His vow to fight them to his last breath was that of a man who would give anything, beyond even his life, to destroy them. His pain is real too, he mourns his lost lover and friends. He is a man Shali. Are you a woman?"

Her question shocked the quarian, and she whirled to face the justicar. "You think I would lower my veil so easily!"

"Peace, child. You are young, and you remind me of myself when I first met Galgo. You are not the first woman to make eyes at a mighty warrior, even if you hide it behind your veil. I do not question your modesty. I only wonder, what does he see us as? Lost children? Pathetic mortals? Does he see you any differently? He treats my daughter well, but she is not a woman, and he is no deviant. You though, you have no interest in Hart, and it has been said that many humans find quarian woman attractive."

There was some truth to that, not a few human sell swords who came to serve on the Wall went back to their lands with a quarian husband or bride. Out of all the half breeds, behind turian-quarian, human-quarian was the most common.

"I am not an uncouth woman." Shali muttered.

"I did not say you were. Only consider: a man must have something to live for besides vengeance. What, I wonder, is our savior living for? Death? That is not something that will keep him alive when hope leaves him, and I fear on our journey, it shall. Go sleep. I have said enough for one night."

Shali lay down, and to her embarrassment, her dreams were of baring her face to the Shepard. She could not see his reaction, for he wore an iron mask of hatred, looking only to the past.

_He must see the future, my daughter._ A voice whispered to Shali. _He will have to choose. He already chose no choice once. If he does it again, we are all doomed. Keelah Se'lai._


	8. Chapter 8

**Hart**

Riding in to the krogan capital was a new experience for Hart. With his trained soldiers eye, he could tell it was designed not for comfort, but for war. Each gate had think iron bars, and had a narrow, 100 foot long corridor that contained two 90 degree angles so that any attackers would have a hard time getting through. The buildings were all low and rounded with heavy stone or metal shod walls, all aid out in a confusing grid with elevated defensive positions on every roof.

"I wouldn't want to try and take this place." Hart remarked to Galgo.

The krogan nodded. "Indeed. Tuchanka has never fallen, to any foe. It has endured since its founding, ages ago. As long as a single krogan warrior remains, it shall never be taken."

"See, it's crap like that that confuses me." the Shepard muttered from behind Hart.

"What confuses you?" Hart asked.

The Shepard shrugged. "This city. It's named Tuchanka, after the krogan homeworld. But nobody seems to realize there WAS a world named Tuchanka."

Hart glanced at Galgo, who shrugged. Hart wasn't going there. The Shepard's explanations were too confusing for a simple soldier to follow. The language of the gods was surely strange, and Hart was finding he was more comfortable just being a simple mortal.

The sights and smells of the city continued to wash over him though, and he focused on that. It was the smell of a city of iron, burning forges, dung from war beasts, sweat from soldiers and mixed in with the food and spices from the markets. It smelled much like home, though the dung smell was new. The Order preferred to use geth, and while the leavings of geth were foul, it was a very different smell.

The sights were simply amazing, ordered columns of krogan warriors marched by in full armor, their low voices rumbling in battle chants. Children played in the streets, most of them with wooden weapons, and their calls and laughter brought joy to Hart. Merchants hawked their wares, and customers argued and bartered. It was much like the Order's capital, Keelah, with its teeming masses and narrow streets, though the designs were exotic and the smells horrific.

"Remind you of home?" Hart yelled over the cacophony to Shali.

Her eyes twinkled behind her veil and she cocked her head to one side. "The smell is certainly new."

"Oh, I think we can thank our friends here for that." Hart laughed, patting his kakliosaurs hide.

"I prefer the smells a geth makes."

"Same here, but I think a krogan would be likely to prefer a kakliosaurs stench. Might remind them of home."

"They don't smell." Gargo bellowed from the lead.

"What?" Hart shouted back.

"They don't smell. Trust me, these ones are healthy. If they were sick, they would smell. I raised these beasts myself, they do not smell."

"Whatever you say, O dragonslayer!" Hart chuckled. He glanced at Shali and wiggled his mandibles impudently. She grinned and nodded. Only a nose less bosh'tet would think these creatures didn't smell.

**Gargo**

It was good to be in the capitol. Gargo had been there a few times before, but as he held Polinna on his lap, he felt a sense of pride as he pointed out the great monuments to krogan achievement. "There is the Stone of Grunt Bafan, raised in thanks for when the Black Tide of a thousand years ago was repelled, by the grace of the Shepard."

"Does that mean Mr. Shepard was there when it happened?" Polinna asked, gazing up at the get black stone engraved with the names of a thousand fallen warriors.

Gargo paused, normally he would have said yes, but now he wasn't sure. "Well, the grace of the gods, anyway. And look, there, that is a statue of Urdnot Riiknar, wielder of Darksbane, the Axe of the Ancients."

It was pleasant, showing his daughter so much of their peoples history. She seemed to be enjoying it as well, and wanted a closer look at several monuments.

"Later, sweetness. When we have met with the Emperor."

"Wow, are we really going to get to see the Emperor? Can I wear a dress?"

"Of course." Gargo answered absently, his eyes rising to the ancient stone of Fortress Krogan. "There it is, Fortress Krogan, palace of a hundred emperors, bastion of the light, and the strong center of our people."

"Wow!" Polinna gasped, standing up in the saddle as Gargo held her up.

Fortress Krogan was truly worthy of awe. Statues of great warriors of the empire lined the approach, eternal guardians imbued with witchcraft to rise and fight should an enemy ever attempt to take the palace by force. Five hundred stone steps, each inlaid with the bones of fallen heroes and inscribed with prayers to the ancients and god shone in the sunlight, their mystic warding and runes giving off a faint blue glow. The palace itself was a massive iron wall, meticulously maintained so that not a spot of rust or tarnish shown upon its surface, which was decorated with stamped scenes of mighty battles out of mythology and history.

The entire palace seamed to glow in the sunlight, and Gargo felt his heart stir with pride to be a krogan. This was the symbol of his people; an ancient, immovable wall of strength that had endured the ages and would endure ages more. Steeped in lore, revered by all, mighty and strong and unbowed.

As they approached the palace, an honor guard of the Emperors personal warriors, veterans of 100 years in the wastes all, stopped the party and an ancient shaman stepped forward, her bells tingling to her swaying footsteps.

"Who approaches Fortress Krogan?" The shaman demanded.

"Gargo Dragonslayer and his kin and boon companions. I seek an audience with the Emperor, that the ancients might hear of my deeds!"

"You call yourself dragonslayer, but where is your proof?" The shaman asked.

Gargo pointed to Shepard, breaking with tradition. "I bring you The Shepard, herald of our doom and salvation."

There was an intake of breath, and all eyes turned to Shepard, who just so happened to be picking his nose at that moment. Gargo groaned. So much for that.

**Shepard**

There are times in life that are moments of triumph and glory, where you can look back with pride and say that then, you were at your best.

This was not one such moment. Carefully withdrawing his finger from his nose, Shepard jauntily waved to the awestruck krogan. "Hi, I'm Commander David Shepard. Apparently, a god or something. What's up?"

"This cannot be the one foretold!" The lead guard mumbled.

The shaman shook her head. "I do not believe this is the Shepard."

**CHILDREN OF THE KROGAN, BEHOLD THE SHEPARD!**

Shepard leaped off his mount and activated his omnitool, searching for where the Reaper voice had come from.

**I, URDNOT WREX, OVERLORD OF THE ANCIENTS AND MIGHTEST GOD OF THE KROGAN, GIVE HIM MY BLESSING! ESCORT HIM TO MY TEMPLE, THAT I MAY SPEAK WITH THIS MIGHTY ONE!**

Spinning around, David felt his mouth drop open. Above and behind him floated the massive head of Urdnot Wrex, seemingly made out of blue stars and galaxies.

**I, URDNOT WREX, HAVE SPOKEN!**

The head winked out, and Shepard was left blinking in the sunlight. He wondered where the holo projector was, and just how much of that bullshit these yokels would buy.

He felt an arm brush his trouser leg, and turned around to see Polinna looking up at him. "Wow! You know Urdnot Wrex! He's like the best god ever! Well, except for you, Mr. Shepard."

A strangled sound escaped the prostrate shaman. "Child, do not lay hands upon him!"

That ticked Shepard off, so he picked Polinna up and started up the stairs. "Come on people, let's go see what the man behind the curtain wants."

The whole assembly followed after him, though Gargo, Tol'riah, Shali and Hart took up places on his flanks. It almost felt normal, except they appeared to be heading for a vid set about ancient Mesopotamia or some nonsense like that.

"Cecil B Demile, eat your heart out." Shepard muttered as they approached the massive green copper doors, depicting two krogan warriors with drawn spears and heavy armor.

"What's a See Sil?" Polinna asked.

Shepard shrugged. "Old story teller, older than me at any rate."

"Woah, she must be as old as rocks!"

Shepard decided against correcting Polinna, it wasn't like they were going to be watching Ben-Hur anytime soon, even if this did look like part of the set.

Inside, an ancient krogan in ornate, gilded armor, wielding a massive battle hammer waited for them. "I heard the voice of a god, and the echoes of the footsteps of doom. Are you the Shepard?"

Before Shepard could say anything, Polinna spoke for him. "No silly! I'm Polly, this is Shepard! He's really nice, are you the Emperor?"

"Yeah, what she said." Shepard agreed, shifting his grip on Polinna.

The old krogan chuckled and set his hammer head down on the ground. "Well then, Shepard and Polly, come. We must take you to the Temple of the Gods."

Shepard glanced at Polly and rolled his eyes, and the young asari giggled and copied the gesture.

They made their way through the stone and meta halls, grim visages of krogan in various armors or shaman's robes glaring out at them, as if daring Shepard to take them on. He snorted. Wrex would have thought he had died and gone to heaven if he had ever seen a place like this, but Shepard just thought it was over blown and tacky.

Before long, they came to the temple. "Oh you have got to be kidding me." Shepard groaned.

Before the Chapel stood two statues, one of Grunt, the other of Wrex. Above them in the ceiling the smiling image of Bakara looked down, her claws spread wide in a welcoming gesture.

"These are seriously the gods?" Shepard asked Gargo.

"Wrex, Grunt, and Bakara. Wrex, god of wisdom, diplomacy and tenacity. His weapon is the battle hammer. Grunt, god of warriors, scientists, and strength. His weapon is the axe. Bakara, goddess of fertility, medicine and patience. Her weapon is the flail."

"Right. Because gods totally have to have a sacred weapon."

"Krogan ones do." Gargo answered, taking his daughter out of Shepard's arms. "Go, you must enter the temple alone."

Muttering to himself, Shepard marched into the temple as the heavy doors swung shut behind me. Everywhere were statues to other gods, Shepard recognized Tali, Liara, Miranda, Ashley and even what looked like a very screwed up Legion, though they were smaller then the statues to the krogan ones. Just as Shepard approached the statue of Wrex, admiring the precious stones that adorned the statues armor, he felt a heavy slap on his back.

"Shepard! Never thought you'd get away from that damn dragon. It's about time you got up and moving again!"

"I know that voice..." Shepard spun, and found himself face to face with a grinning Urdnot Wrex. "Wrex?! You're alive?!"

"Of course I'm alive! Well, sorta. Not like you I guess. I'm-" The old krogan seemed to hear a distant voice and muttered something under his breath. "Sorry Shepard, I hate this cloak and daggers crap. I think we should just tell you, but noooo, have to play the vague immortal god crap. Genre savvy my leathery ass."

"What? What are you talking about Wrex? What's going on here? Where am I, what happened after the Crucible."

"Damn it Shepard, I can't tell you that! Bakara would kill me! And let me tell you, when that woman tells you no mating privileges for a millennia, she MEANS it."

"Well can you at least tell me how you're still alive? I mean, I know krogan live a long time, but no one seems to even remember who I really was."

Wrex's beady red eyes regarded Shepard for a moment, then he chuckled. "Oh, they remember alright. Better then you do least ways. No, I can't say more than that. And no, I'm not really alive. I can't leave this temple, at least not in a way you would understand."

"So what, you're a holo projection of a VI's stored memories?"

"Hell no!" Wrex bellowed, slamming a fist into Shepard's stomach and doubling him over. "That felt real didn't it! No damn VI could ever do that!"

Gasping for breath, Shepard nodded. "Yeah! Yeah, I guess."

"Hmph. You heard the prophecy my shaman gave you, right? And the big one, the one the asari told you. She's Liara's, but since she's attached to one of mine I can talk to her sometimes."

"What are you babbling about Wrex? You mean that ridiculous sounding poem?"

"Ugh, yes. If it were me, I would have written them out orders. Go here, do this, kill this guy, get this weapon. But no, we had to put the salarians and asari in charge of that! They love that mystical nonsense bullcrap! It was like they were waiting for this their whole lives!"

"Waiting for what, Wrex?"

"Ha! Nice try! But you'll have to find the watchamacallit, the trove of stars. And you better hop on it, that stupid glowing runt knows something is up. Watch out for its pet varren too, ole Harby isn't what he seems." Wrex suddenly turned and yelled at someone Shepard couldn't see. "There, that vague enough for you Mordin! We never should have named that girl after you! Oh, lick my quad you stuffy scientist! Genre enforced blindness my ass, if we could just TELL him! Right, right, the deal I know. No, I'm not playing dumb for time and additional information. WHAT! Fine."

"Who are you talking to Wrex?"

"Listen, I have to go. Keep it up Shepard, kick the Reapers in the quad again. Just, this time, make sure you take a choice when it's given to you. We're out of other options."

"What are you talking about!" Shepard screamed, but Wrex suddenly vanished, leaving him alone in the temple. Shepard scanned and searched every inch of the temple, but couldn't find any sort of tech, or even a hint of power. Just as he was ready to give up, deep laughter rumbled from atop a statue of Grunt.

"Heh. Heh. Heh. Give up yet?"

Shepard looked up and grinned, atop the statue sat Grunt, though a much older, more mature krogan then he remembered. The laugh was a dead giveaway though. "Grunt! Get down here, maybe you can talk some sense."

The krogan hopped down, but as he did Shepard felt his joy dampen. Instead of the hardsuit Wrex had been in, Grunt was wearing armor like his statue.

"Battlemaster, I am glad you have awoken. Once more, the dark ones stir, and you again must be the champion of the light."

"Knock it off Grunt, talk straight with me, like Wrex did."

"What do you mean? I speak as I always have. Plainly, like a warrior. You must prepare Battlemaster. Take the companions you have and head to the city of the blue warriors. There you will find the council you seek in a secret long buried."

"CAN'T FREAKING ANYONE GIVE ME A PLAIN BASIC ANSWER!" Shepard shouted, pulling at his hair. "Why are you dressed like that Grunt? Don't tell me you've gone native!"

"I answer the prayers of the warriors and give them strength in battle. Such is the duty of the god of war."

"But you're not a god! You're Grunt! I was there when you came out of the tank, remember!"

"That was the Grunt you knew. I am different. Farwell, Battlemaster. When your sword arm grows weary, cry out to me, and I will come."

With that, Grunt dissolved into blue sparkles and stars. Shepard was about ready to weep from sheer frustration, when a tutting sound came from behind him.

"Males. So dramatic. One can't let go of the old ways, and the other doesn't know when to let go of the new ones. I should have spoken to you first."

"Bakara." Shepard sighed, turning to face the female krogan. At least she was dressed the way he remembered. "Will you speak in riddles as well?"

"I will speak as plainly as I can, but we are all bound by the change. As are you, if only you would accept its bindings and its blessings."

"But I don't KNOW what you're talking about!"

"And as a god, I cannot tell you. But perhaps that simple statement will provide you with enlightenment."

"Right. Feeling really enlightened over here."

"I understand your frustration Shepard. It took me many years to adjust to my new station. But it is for the best. Believe that. Believe that what Miranda and the others wrought really was for the best."

"But what did they do!"

"Go to the asari. They can guide you down the right path. I can say no more but this: Thank you, Shepard. For giving us all hope. And for never giving in. The dark ones fear you for a reason."

And with that, Bakara too disappeared, though she simply faded into shadow, then vanished. Shepard searched high and low, but could not find anything. After an hour of waiting, he gave up and exited the temple.

"Did you find the gods?" Tol'riah asked him as he stormed out.

"I found something." Shepard agreed. "Come on, let's find out what the wise ones have to say. Though the next person to tell me w riddle gets punched in the gut."

_Authors Note:_

_It is impossible to write a good ME fic without including Urdnot Wrex. True story. _


	9. Chapter 9

**Shepard**

Talking with his old crew members had been an experience that was certain. Shepard wasn't sure if they had been holograms, or something more. What he was doing was starting put put the pieces together.

Item: Biotics were exhibiting strange powers he had never seen before, such as psychic contact or healing. Everyone else took this as normal.

Item: The Reapers had changed, somehow. They were more like medieval monsters or fantasy creatures then the advanced machine race he remembered. Not to mention Harbingers rather odd looking avatar was completely unlike what Shepard remembered seeing.

Item: Quarians and turians ate the same food as everyone else. That might have changed due to genetic engineering, but Shepard was pretty damn sure not even Mordin Solus, if he had lived, could have done something like that.

Item: If everyone else was to be believed, and if he thought about it rationally, they had no reason to lie, species could safely interbreed, which would have been impossible according to every law of science that Shepard knew.

Item: Three of the people he trusted most in the galaxy had cryptically referred to themselves as gods, or outright said they were gods, and everyone else seemed to think they were. As far as Shepard could tell there was no reason to believe they had been holograms, unless someone was hiding incredibly advanced technology from a civilization that appeared to have about iron age tech otherwise. How would something like that continue to function for that long? Vigil had lasted 50,000 years, but he had been so damaged and drained that the VI had been nearly impossible to understand and had shut down shortly after its very brief communication.

So, Shepard was forced to face that whatever he thought he knew about the world was likely wrong. That lead him to several conclusions The first was that he was slowly dying in a pool of his own blood on the Citadel as that bastard star child laughed at him. That sort of made sense, the last thing he remembered was falling unconscious, probably due to blood loss. It would explain why nothing worked according to rational laws, and why such strange things kept happening. If this was just the random firing of synapses as his brain slowly died, that would explain a lot.

However, that really didn't seem likely to Shepard. It all felt to real. He could remember the shadow dreams with the boy, and how he had always felt like he was walking through water. His nightmares about the war always involved a feeling of helplessness and futility which he was assuredly not feeling at the moment. Just frustration and a bit of anger, but he didn't feel like he was out of control or helpless. When he fought, he felt just as competent as ever, maybe even more so. He felt alive too, with the pain and adrenaline high of combat just like it had always been, right down to the grinding of his implants.

The second option was that he was in some sort of computer simulation of the reapers, like that old 20th century film, The Matrix. Trapped in the projections of the Reapers and unable to see a way out. Maybe he had even been assimilated into a human reaper like those poor colonists and this was just the Reapers way of keeping what remained of his mind and spirit enslaved to them. But that didn't seem all that likely for some reason. He didn't feel a loss of individuality or even Indoctrinated. In fact, he had felt more then a little Indoctrinated when he was on the Citadel, but felt more clearheaded since awakening then he had since the Bahak system.

The third was that however the Reapers had been put down, it had altered things. Whatever the Crucible had been meant to do, no one knew. They just knew it contained a HELL of a lot of energy. Maybe it had fired after-all and somehow warped the laws of reality. That didn't actually seem possible, but it was just as likely as the fever dreams or Reaper machines as far as Shepard was concerned.

"Hell of a thing." He growled as he strode into the krogan throne room.

Again, he felt like he was on a historical vid set. Huge tapestries depicting krogan warriors in battle hung from the walls, painted in stark black and red. The figures on the tapestries were stylized and primitive looking, but they seemed to glow from the torches and braziers that lit the room. The throne itself was carved from dark obsidian and affixed with gold engravings. The walls were all dark green marble, with milky white lines running through it. The whole thing was very impressive, yet somehow kind of hockey an silly to Shepard. It looked larger then life and put on, not like somewhere people actually lived.

Then Shepard noticed the seat of the throne and the floor in front of it. The throne was worn smooth by generations of krogan that had sat upon it, and there was even a notch created by where the Emperor rested his hammer in the same place his ancestors had. Before the throne grooves where thousands of supplicants hand knelt were clearly visible, and for a moment, everything seemed to snap into focus. Then Shepard shook his head. He would have to figure things out later. For now, he had an Emperor to deal with.

With heavy steps, the ancient krogan Emperor in his gaudy armor acended the steps to his throne and sat upon it, resting his hammer in the groove and putting his chin upon his claws. "So, you are the one the ancient prophecies speak of. The Shepard, returned. The hour of our testing is upon us."

"Well, I'm Commander David Shepard at any rate. I don't know that I would call myself any sort of god, that's for sure." Shepard replied carefully. He didn't really want to insult someone as obviously important or powerful as the Emperor of the Krogan, but he didn't really want to let the nonsense about his divinity continue either.

"What you call yourself is irrelevant. What you are is what matters to me," The Emperor answered. "The gods have spoken, and the prophecies are coming true. Tell me, where do you intend to go from here? How will you find the trove of the stars? What do you need to obtain the blade of the ancients? As Emperor of the Krogan, it is my duty to aid you, Shepard."

Of their own accord, Shepard's eyebrows rose. Normally, to get people to help him, he had to do ridiculous things like solve a millenia old feud, find an ancient artifact in a temple full of Reapers, or save their sister from mercinaries. "You'll help me, just like that?"

The Emperor shrugged. "There is only so much I can give you. If you want warriors, I have a few I can spare, but not a great host. If the dark times are truely upon us, and I believe they are, I must reinforce my borders and send for aid. The hammer will fall first and hardest here, as it always has. But the krogan will stand ready. Alone, if we have to."

"Not alone." This was Tol'riah, who stepped forward. "I will give you signed messages to send to every corner of the world, calling forth my sisters. The Order of Saint Liara has long awaited the hour of need, and now that it is at hand, we shall aid you. But we must also look to the East. The vorcha grow restless, and perhaps the dark gods are behind their currently hostility."

The Emperor inclined his head slightly to Tol'riah in thanks. "We will value every justicar that answers. Your witchcraft has proven itself time and again in battle with the Iron Warriors hold, and I have seen other justicars smite evil with fury and valor. But I fear even the aid of every justicar ever born will not be enough. We need the full might of the Shepard."

"Wait, I know!" Shepard declared, beaming in mock joy. "You need me to go around to the capitals of the different races and convince them to come to your aid! Then we create a massive coalition of races and some sort of secret super weapon and take the fight to the Reapers!"

The Emperor glanced at Gargo. "Is his speech always so strange? Does he not know of the accords?"

"He is surprisingly ignorant of many things, though his skill as a warrior is unmatched and he has great and strange powers. I believe he is the Shepard." Gargo answered.

"The accords?" Shepard asked, glancing at Tol'riah, but it was Shali who answered.

"The accords are ancient agreements that bind the four nations together," she explained. "If the time of darkness is at hand, every available warrior will come south to fight the Reapers and buy you time. You, Shepard, are the one who must fulfill the prophecy and save the races by once again striking down the dark gods."

"All I did was put a round in the Star Child's bastard face," Shepard muttered. Suddenly, the flame guttered, and a shadow seemed to fall upon the throne room.

"Do not speak such a vile name here!" The Emperor bellowed, rising in anger and glowing with biotic power. "Bad enough that the dark times are here! What madness drives you to speak the name of the most vile demon of them all?"

"Do you react the same way to Voldemort?" Shepard shot back, though he was slightly taken aback. That had been just a bit to creepy.

"The great Snake, foe of the Lightning Marked Child, Jack?" Hart asked, brightening slightly. "That is an old tale, one few remember."

"Speak the names of fel beasts if you must Shepard, but not the names of demons," The Emperor declared, settling back in his chair. "Even here in the halls of our power, they hold dark magics."

Shrugging, Shepard answered, "Fine, have it your way. As far as what we need, enough supplies to get us to the asari lands and maybe a few clues as to what I will face on my journey."

"The supplies will not be difficult. You shall have whatever you need. As for what you face, I cannot tell you beyond this. You will travel across wild lands that are not as safe as they once were. Bandits, beasts and dark things stalk the countryside. Once my writ extended all the way to the river Thessia, but no more. In these past few hundred years, a shadow has fallen across the land. I have lost many warriors trying to reclaim the wilds, but at the same time evil stirs in the wastes. Dark portents indeed." The Emperor growled.

Shepard bowed slightly. "Thank you. Then I ask only for food and lodgings for the night."

"You shall have them. Normally I would hold a great feast for such hallowed company and for the knowledge that the great wyrm of the central wastes has been slain, but now I must plan for war. Still, formality must be observed. Urdnot Gargo, step forward!"

**Gargo**

The moment had arrived. One Gargo had been both dreading and anticipating, the moment when he forever forsook the name Urdnot and become Gargo Dragonslayer in truth.

"Who comes before the Throne of Tuchanka?" The Emperor demanded.

"One who as done battle and emerged victorious!" Gargo bellowed, kneeling before his lord in the well worn spots blessed by the steps of a thousand warrior before him.

"What foe have you slain?"

"A foe that is worthy and great, a terrible demon that will tax our people no longer!"

"What foe is this?" The Emperor asked, pointing his sacred hammer at Gargo.

Gargo held out his own blade, handle toward the Emperor to show fealty. "A dragon, terrible in power and might and blasphemy to behold."

"Who would claim such a thing?"

"I, Urdnot Gargo do so claim! I have fulfilled the Blood Oath I swore upon my fathers cairn and delivered my clan and kin from peril!"

"Who would speak for this warrior, to tell of his deeds?"

Tol'riah stepped forward. "I would speak, for I was beside him as boon companion in battle and witnessed his valor."

"Then speak of his deeds, boon companion of the Dragonslayer."

Nodding to her bondmate, Tol'riah began. "The land was dark and the journey treacherous. We were accosted by heretics mutants and servants of the dark gods in all their twisted forms, but we prevailed by the might of our weapons and the courage of our companionship. Upon our way we found the noble Hart Mortin and the fair Shali'Zorah, servants of the light true. We came upon the great beast in its terrible lair, and found it upon its dark throne. Our battle was great and terrible, but at great peril to himself, Gargo rose up and struck the beats heart with his axe. So furious was his blow that his weapon was twisted and broken, but the blow was true. The great beast perished, and upon its pyre we found the Shepard, he that was foretold May all mourn his coming, for dark times are upon us."

The assembly bowed their heads, Gargo included. This quest would claim his life, of that he was certain. "Oh ancients, grant only that my daughter lives. May the future I buy with my life be one worthy of having." Gargo prayed quietly.

After a moments silence, the Emperor stood. "Today my heart is gladdened for one we thought lost to us has returned covered in glory. Arise, Gargo Dragonslayer, progenetor of clan Gargo! My your enemies tremble at your coming, and your line be long and blessed!"

Gargo stood, and the Emperor rapped his head plate with his sacred hammer. "Go now. You have given me much to think on. I shall confer with you in the mourning upon your departure. For now, rest. You have earned it."

With a nod, Gargo turned, scooping his daughter up. "Come Poli, I shall show you the hallowed halls of our forebears, that you might know their deeds."

"Yay! Do we get to spend the whole day together daddy?" Poli asked, snuggling up on Gargo's headplates.

Taking Tol'riah's hand, Gargo smiled. "Yes. Today is ours, and the future is yours, my heart."

"To the future." Tol'riah agreed, though her eyes were as haunted as Gargo's own. But for one day, they could forget the dark times and simply be together. Tomorrow would come soon enough.

**Miranda**

Her fingers brushed the scrying pool, and the image of David faded into ripples as a single tear fell from Miranda's swelling eyes.

"It is just not fair Tali." Miranda gasped, fighting back further tears. She was the queen of the gods, she could not cry.

"No, it's not." Tali agreed, brushing back a lock of her dark purple hair and offering a hankerchief made of the dreams of children to her friend. "But it's the rules."

"The Reapers don't have to follow them." Miranda complained bitterly. "Why should we not be allowed to interfere."

Tali shrugged. "We do what we can. I've sent dreams to some of my priestesses telling them the time is now. More then that is forbidden. Do not fear, he will succeed. He always did before."

"Yes, but that was before we changed things on him." Miranda said, drying her eyes. "He doesn't even know what he is now. How can he, the Reaper's succeeded in that much while they had him bound."

"Please, this is Shepard we are talking about," Tali joked, slapping Miranda on the back. "When did impossible odds and certain failure ever stop him?"

"Never," Miranda admitted.

"Just get him into one of your temples and have some personal time with him. You'll feel a lot better." Tali encouraged.

Miranda shook her head. "As much as I would love to, he needs to take a mortal lover and make children. Out of all the gods, you know I am the only one forbidden mortal lovers for I cannot have children."

"He hardly counts as mortal," Tali chided, but then she relented. "Alright, but you know I'm going to play hardball with you on that one. You beat me out last time, but Shali will get him for sure now."

"I'll never understand why the two of you still cling to ideas of monogamy," Wrex rumbled as he snapped into being behind them.

Tali sniffed. "It's only proper. I don't understand why you seem to think it's appropriate to take a dozen mortals at a time."

Wrex shrugged. "The blood of the gods is important. Gargo has some you know. His grandfather was my son."

Miranda sighed. "You know how Shepard is Wrex. Totally dedicated to the woman he chooses. I've picked out the perfect one for him, completely pure mortal and 100% human. A bit of a rarity these days."

"Whatever works. At least he's finally up. Things certainly have taken a turn for the worse in recent years, despite our best efforts," Wrex growled. "What I wouldn't give to be able to actually fight the Reapers."

"Soon Wrex," Miranda stated, her mouth forming a hard line. "Very soon. And then a new cycle will be born. Our cycle."


	10. Chapter 10

The Thief

"Kasumi, Lady of Night, guide your servant this eve. Grant me success in my endeavours, and lead me to the shiney stuff that I can pawn easily. My fence be honest, and my marks fat and happy. Blind the guards and make the shadows long. For this, I give you your cut, with a promise for an offering later."

Gwendalyn Lightfoot, just Gwen to her friends, tossed the silver coin into the night, watching as it spun and sparkled. Then she yanked the string it was attached to and pulled it back into her purse. She figured the Lady of the Night would be more impressed by her cleverness and guile than by a puny half mark offering. They didn't call her the Laughing Goddess for nothing, right?

Closing her eyes, Gwen drew the night around her, cloaking herself in shadows. It was a neat trick, one that the techno-rune tattoos all over her body allowed her to perform. It had cost her a fortune to pay off the quarian sorcerer to do it, but he'd done his job well. The shadows surrounded Gwen, blurring her image and allowing her to disappear entirely when she stood still and out of the light.

Running lightly across the rooftops of Tuchanka, Gwen avoided the pools of light and guards below, keeping to the shadows and out of sight. Rumor had it that a god, specifically the great Shepard, had taken up residence in the palace. Gwen found the idea patently ridiculous herself. Obviously, someone had come up with what had to be the greatest con ever and pulled a fast one on ole emperor grumpypants himself. She hadn't seen any mircicles anyway, and besides, human gods were not like krogan gods. Or at least Gwen's were not. Kasumi didn't give a fig about honor and she certainly didn't expect her people to be warriors. The virtues of the Lady of the Night were stealth, cunning, fast fingers and clean getaways.

As she approached the palace wall, Gwen smoothed a few stray strands of blonde hair back underneath her cowl. She was dressed all in black, with a velvet robe covering the dark leathers underneath. The Mask of Shadows was all well and good for keeping you out of sight of regular folk, but you never knew when a krogan shaman would be looking the wrong way. Best to be subtle in all things.

Bright blue eyes peered over the crenellations of the palaces battlements. Several guards were patrolling vigilantly, but the krogan's beady eyes couldn't see Gwen. She flipped over the obstacle lightly, then scampered down a nearby stairwell. Once she was inside, things should be much easier. There had been a great feast to celebrate some sort of krogan hero and the false-god, so naturally everyone was going to be as drunk as well, a krogan.

Avoiding the light of the palaces torches, Gwen made her way towards the visitors quarters. The false-god was probably LOADED after staying in the krogan palace, and besides, guest rooms were far less heavily warded and guarded than palace vaults. The heavy footfalls of the krogan guards were laughably easy to dodge, and Gwen got to the guest quarters with ease. Now she just had to decide which room to go into.

Holding her hands up against the doors, Gwen checked for wards or spells. On two doors she found complex ones, one made of witchcraft, the other of sorcery. She crossed both those off the list of marks. Sure they probably had something good in them, but it wasn't going to be worth it if shinies were in the unwarded room. To her shock, the unwarded room was the biggest and fanciest one of all. Holding back a squee of delight, Gwen put her ear to the door. No sound. Gently, she lifted the latch and snuck inside.

Score! On the bed lay a sleeping human. it was almost too bad really, the cost of the shimmer silk covers and drapes on the bed alone had to be enough to pay for a years supply of benders. The room was still richly appointed with gilding and plenty of expensive vases and wall hangings though. Pausing to listen carefully, Gwen nodded in satisfaction when she heard the steady rhythm of the man's breathing. This was going to be one shiny night!

Shepard

After yet another krogan banquet, Shepard was exhausted. It wasn't enough that the krogan were all impressed he could drink Ryncol with the rest of them. No, they had to hear endless stories about his adventures with Grunt and Wrex, and about how he helped cure the Genophage. Which didn't make much sense, because the krogan kept yelling and telling him how he was getting all the details wrong, but he should hurry up and get to the part where Kalros pasted the vile Wrev, or where Wrex took on two demons single handedly, or where Grunt fought his way out of an entire hive of Ranchi. Of course the krogan would want to hear about that.

He was sound asleep, at least Shepard thought he was sound asleep, when a sudden weight on his chest woke up him. Blinking several times, Shepard tried to clear the sleep out of his eyes. There was nothing above him, but it felt like he had a ton of bricks sitting on him.

"Hey Shep! Long time no see. Nice room. I'm usually not a fan of the gaudy stuff, but what can I say, I love money," a chipper voice said in a casual tone.

After a moment of furious thought, Shepard groaned. "Kasumi, please get off of me. Turn on the lights and lets have a freaking conversation about just what the hell is going on here."

"Sorry, no can do. I'm just here to collect a debt. Seems one of my followers skimped on my cut. That's a rather rude thing to do. Plus, Miranda asked me so nicely. How could I say no?"

"Kasumi, what the hell are you talking about?" Shepard demanded, struggling to sit up. The weight rolled off of him to his side, and a sleeping woman who was naked save for her tattoos suddenly appeared next to Shepard.

With a yelp, Shepard jumped out of the bed and spun about, searching furiously for his old crewmember. "Kasumi, what the hell! Why are you dumping naked dead woman in my bed all of a sudden?"

"Have some taste Commander, please. She's not dead. And besides, your expression when you found a naked woman on top of you was hilarious. Now if you'll excuse me, someone is robbing the Dalatress' palace in Thessia, and I have got to get over there to see the look on the stewards face when he sees her portrait is missing. Oh, and Miranda sends her love, but says you should totally be in to the new girl because she's very hot. She's a pretty good thief too, I was sad I had to spoil her run, but hey, that's life! Send pictures when you get together! Ta-ta!"

"Dammit Kasumi! Don't go until I get some freaking answers!" Shepard ran around the room in his underwear, waving the beam from his omnitool all over the place trying to find the thief, but she had apparently vanished. Figured.

Stomping over to the sleeping woman, Shepard poked her in the nose, hard. "Hey, wake up. I'm afraid you've been kidnapped miss, Kasumi thought it would be funny to dump you in my bed."

The woman groaned, then stretched and blinked several times. Then she squawked and sprang out of the bed, running for the window.

"Oh no you don't!" Shepard snarled, and tackled her to the floor. "You're not going anywhere until I get some answers!"

"Help, help! I'm being molested by this great hairy man!" the blond woman squawked, thrashing about beneath Shepard.

"Will you shut up! If you stop struggling I'll find you some clothes, but I need some answers first."

Shepard let out a sigh of relief when the womans struggles suddenly stopped, until he caught the look on her face. Outrage highlighted her high cheekbones and her blue eyes sparkled with mischief. "What, do you not like me when I'm naked?" She bounced twice, suddenly reminding Shepard that she was in fact, very naked, and he was nearly so.

Before Shepard could formulate a response, the door was reduced to splinters as two krogan warriors in full plate armor crashed into the room. "Lord Shepard, what is amiss?"

As soon as they caught sight of Shepard on top of a naked woman on the floor, the two warriors burst out laughing. "Forgive us, we did not mean to intrude. She looks to be a fine catch, for a human. If we had known you desired a female, we could have sent you a proper krogan one!'

With more catcalls and hooting, the warriors backed out of the room, and one of them drew a tapestry across the entryway.

"Well, they certainly know how to make an entrance, don't they?"

Shepard's eyes slid back down to the now grinning woman on the floor. "Indeed. Mind telling me how you got here? Now that I think about it, Kasumi mentioned something about you being one of her followers. I don't know much about how things work around her, but if you are a friend of Kasumi's, that makes you a thief or my names Jon Grissom."

"How do you do, Sir Grissom?" the woman asked, smiling impudently.

"Funny. You see this?" Shepard activated his omnitool and held it up to the womans face. Her eyes went wide with shock, and her mouth popped open. "This is a powerful magical artifact. It can tell when you are lying. Lie to me again, and I'll tie you up and hand you over the guards. I'm sure they'll love to hear an assassin was visiting me in the night."

"It was that damn god!" the woman spat. "I should have known better than to stiff the Lady of the Night on her cut, but what can you do? She showed up, worked some divine magic on me and knocked me out. All I was doing was going for a late night stroll in the aliens quarter. I'm just a poor innocent pilgrim from the north, here to see the wonders of the krogan empire." She fluttered her eyelashes innocently, putting a finger to her mouth and pouting slightly.

"That's strike one. Let's see if the krogan have any hot irons."

"Ok, ok! Look, there's some hoopla in town about how this god showed up right? Well I know that's a load of kakliosaur crap, so I decided that if this guys going to con the emperor out of a bunch of stuff, the least I could do was show up and relieve him of his valuables. I guess that's you, right? Can you really begrudge a fellow charlatan of a few marks? I'll help you find a fence, I know one in every major city from here to the North Sea!"

Shepard's eyes narrowed. "So you don't think I'm a god?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "Sweetie, I can feel your junk right now. It's not bad, but it's hardly divine."

Shepard threw his head back and roared with laughter. Tears streamed down his face, and he found himself shaking slightly. It took a thief invading his quarters for him to find someone who DIDN'T think he was the second coming of Christ.

"Alright, I think I can let you live just for that. Get up and get dressed. Then you're going to answer some more questions. Don't try anything. I can find you as easy as you please if you cloak. I have plenty of experience working with thieves and charlatans."

Standing, Shepard dug out his pants and yanked them on, keeping a close eye on the woman as she dressed. She really wasn't bad looking, lithe and athletic with just enough curves to remind you she was a woman. Her most striking feature though was her short cut blonde hair and blue eyes, relative rarities from Shepard's own time. He wondered if such features had reasserted themselves now that things seemed to have regressed to a more tribal time.

"All done!" the woman suddenly vanished, and Shepard rolled his eyes. Directing his omnitool beam to a corner where the womans heat signature was, Shepared jerked his head. "Decloak and come over here. I hate talking to invisible people.

"Wow, not bad. How'd you do that, some sort of sorcery?" the woman asked, appearing rather relaxed for someone whose escape attempt had just been foiled.

"Sure, why not. What's your name? And how long have you known Kasumi?"

"Call me Gwen. And I don't 'know' a god, don't be silly. I've followed her for about 13 years now though, since I was 14 and ran away from the convent."

"But she was right here, and Kasumi said she knew you."

"Well of course she knows me, just like the Lady of the Night knows every pickpocket and swindler in the entire world! I pray to her like any other honest criminal."

"You know, I'm not going to even touch the logic of that statement. How did you get in my room?"

"I disappeared, dummy. The krogan are tough, but they're pretty bind. They're not so good to rob as the salarians or the asari, but I had to get out of asari lands. My instincts told me it was time to leave."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, your insticts?"

"Well, if you must know, Miranda told me to stay and wait for I was her chosen one," Gwen declared, striking a dramatic pose.

Shepard was across the room in an eyeblink, grabbing onto Gwen's robe with both hands. "You've talked to Miranda? She's alive? Where!"

"Woah, get down boy. I said Miranda talked to ME, I don't get in many words in our conversations. Though I don't know about alive. I mean, are the gods really alive? Do they eat and breath? They make babbies, but do they actually use magic god juice or do they just wave their hands and go 'wooo you're preggers now' or if they're a girl do they kidnap babies and leave them on their parents doorsteps? That's what I'd do. Having that many kids would be such a drag!"

"Miranda talks to you though? What does she say? Where is she? What happened, why has the world changed?" Shepard's eyes burned in his head, and he felt that he was close, so close, to finally getting some answers.

"Sure she talks to me. Ever since I was a girl. I'm not her daughter of course, this isn't some tawdry romance novel where I'm the lonesome girl who is the secret daughter of the barren goddess. I've even got a mark to prove it, see?" Gwen reached up and pulled down her robe, exposing her left shoulder. On it was a Cerberus log in golden ink.

"So you got a Cerberus tattoo. Last time I remember seeing that was one the armor of the troopers trying to kill me and my squad," Shepard half snarled.

"Woah, take it easy, I know it can be a mark of the blue eyed demon too. But I'm no cultist, honest. See, it's got broken chain, the sign of Miranda."

Taking a closer look, Shepard could indeed see that the inner diamond was broken at the top and bottom, which he supposed was different if you were particular about that sort of thing. "Still looks like a Cerberus logo to me."

"Hey pal, I didn't ask for this. I was given it when I was just a girl. I don't remember it, so I don't count it as a miracle or anything. I think my parents just had a sick sense of humor and gave me this so they could bum me off to the nuns. But whatever. Anyway, I hear from Miranda. But me and her, we don't get along, see? So I ditched the convent and signed up with Kasumi! She's way more fun anyway. And that's how I got here. Miranda told me to go one way, I went another. I'm a bad girl. Are you going to punish me?" Gwen put her finger to her lips again and pouted.

Shepard shook his head. "It's too late for this nonsense. Hold out your hand."

Gwen stuck out her hand, grinning lasciviously "What, you going to chain me up or something? Kinky."

"Something like that." Grabbing the hand, Shepard jabbed it with his omintool.

"Oww! You bastard, that hurt!" Gwen jerked her hand back and sucked on the small pinprick of blood welling up from where Shepard had stuck her.

"I just injected you with a small dose of radioactive particles. Don't worry, it's harmless. I'll be able to find you anywhere now though, so don't even think of running off. I'm going to need you. If you hear from Miranda somehow, I need to know what she's saying. And... and if there is a way to get her back, it would be good to see her again."

"Geeze, you talk like you really do know the gods. Are you seriously that crazy? Do you actually think you're the Shepard or something?"

"My name is Commander David Shepard, Alliance Navy. I'm not a god, I'm not some all powerful being. All I am is a lost soldier who wants to know what the hell is going on and if he can, to find the woman he loves. And right now, I'm going back to bed. You can sleep wherever you want, but in the morning, be ready to go. I'd be upset if I had to tear this city apart looking for you.

Gwen

Slumped in a chair across the room from the sleeping man, whatever he was he wasn't a god, gods didn't snore, Gwen tabulated her losses. She was now magically bound to this guy somehow. She had no doubt he had powerful magics, that weird glowy thing was a powerful technosorcery tool if she had ever seen one. He seemed an alright sort, if totally bonkers. That was OK though, the crazy ones always found the best loot.

Thanks a bunch grandma, Gwen mentally snarked, hoping Miranda could hear her. Probably not. She'd never really responded to Gwen before. It was all "go here" or "do this in my name" or "help this random person." Psh. Like Gwen was going to do that.

Gwen shrugged and closed her eyes. Wherever this man was going, it was sure to be interesting at the very least. Hopefully they were going on the kind of adventure where everyone ended up rich and in love instead of poor and broke.

_Authors note: _

_Holy updates Batman! No, this story isn't dead. It's just not high on my list at the moment. Yes, I still have a plan. Yes, eventually, all the crazy gods and weird stuff will make sense at some point. _


	11. Chapter 11

**Hart**

Breaking ones fast in the halls of the krogan felt much like supping in a turian barracks. Unlike the quarians who predominately subsisted upon plants, a turian was a predator and vastly preferred to dine upon meat. This was a sentiment shared by the krogan, and Hart was happily feasting upon a varren steak for his first meal of the day, tankard in hand. It was just now dawn, and the hall was lit by braziers and filled with smoke and the smell of roasting meat; a good beginning to a day.

Spying Shali entering into the hall, Hart waved her over. "See, these krogan know how to properly feed a soldier! We shall have to see if they have something properly ladylike for one of the blood though."

"I am no stranger to hearty meals, you know that Hart," Shali answered, her eyes glowing with amusement behind her veil. She was dressed for travel, with a sturdy robe embroidered with the sigels of House Zorah and a silk traveling veil to cover her head.

"Ah, then you will share my haunch with me? It is good; the krogan cooks know their business."

"Hmm, I think not, it would sit well with me considering our journey ahead. Perhaps some broth and a bit of bread for me."

Standing, Hart motioned to one of the krogan warriors. "Broth and bread with a cup of wine for the lady."

The krogan bowed and stomped off, returning a moment later with a steaming bowl and a crusty loaf a moment later, balancing a clay cup in the other hand. "For the Shepard's companions, only the best while in the house of the Emperor."

Shali murmured her thanks and blew on the broth, lifting aside her veil to sip from it. She was careful only to expose a minimum of skin, as was proper for one of the blood in the house of another, even a king. "Did you hear the rumors?" Hart asked conversationally, waiting until Shali lowered her bowl.

"No, what do you speak of?" Shali asked, her tone puzzled.

"Hey, what's up kiddos? I hear you're with captain divine, we're gonna be pals!" A human woman with short cropped blonde hair and blue eyes that reminded Hart of a mischievous pyjak with a valuable slid onto the bench next to heart. "So, what are we off to do today? I hear you already trashed a dragon. That's something new anyway. Get any good loot? Besides the god-in-a-box anyway."

The woman leaned closer to the two companions, putting her hand next to her mouth and dropping her voice low. "Seriously, you guys need to come up with a better cover story. That one's just silly. In the next town, I say we tell everyone we found grumpypants locked in eternal battle with a dark god and had to free him by the princess here chanting a spell backwards or something. The yokels will eat it up and we'll clean house!"

"Who is the charlatan, Lieutenant?" Shali sniffed, falling back into her role as a scion of a great house.

"I believe she is the rumor I was speaking of," Hart answered, keeping a wary eye on the newcomer. "Apparently, she spent the night abed with the Shepard."

"WHAT?!" Shali's reddening face was clearly visible behind her veil, as was the look of shock and outrage she was directing at the new woman.

"Oh yeah, snuck in to steal his jewels and got his jewels instead, if you know what I mean," the woman replied, sipping from Shali's wine glass. "My, this really is fine vintage."

Shali seemed to be reduced to making noises that reminded Hart of two cats in a bag. "And what would your name be, stranger?" Hart asked, trying to maintain a modicum of decency.

"I don't' know, we'll have to think of a suitable stage one. Call me Gwen for now, since I just know we're going to be best pals."

For several moments, the only sounds from the group were Gwen's noisy guzzling of the wine and Shali's sputtering sounds. When it became painfully obvious the woman truly had no manners, Hart cleared his throat, putting just a bit of a buzz of annoyance into his timber. "I am Lieutenant Hart Mortin, of the Long Watch. This is Shali'Zorah, scion of the most ancient and noble House Zorah."

"Sure you are," Gwen agreed amiably. "So what's your job? Muscle? Who's the princess, she doesn't look like a skirt, maybe the bait?"

"We are the allies of the Shepard, whose fate it to save the world once more from the dark gods!" Shali spat. "And some of us do not feel the need to stoop to the level of a…a skirt as you put it to gain his trust!"

Gwen looked first at Hart, then at Shali. "Oh gods, this is too rich. You seriously BELIEVE he's actually the Shepard? Listen, I don't know if you heard, but we were pretty close last night, and let me tell you, he's definitely-"

"I will have nothing to do with an unveiled woman!" Shali snarled, and stormed off, her broth and bread forgotten. Hart glared at Gwen, the hurried after her. Technically they were equals on this journey, but he still felt a duty towards her. He found Shali out in the stables, staring blanking out at the rising sun.

"A good omen, the sun rises free and clear," Hart remarked. "It will guide us to the lands of the Republic."

Shali remained silently, though behind the veil Hart thought he saw a glimmer of moisture. He sighed and shook his head. "It is not strange for the gods to take lovers, Mistress. And what is the Shepard if not a god? He has needs that must be met, seed that must be sown. It is no affront to you or your blood."

She sniffed, shaking her head and smiling behind the silk. "What makes you think my eyes are upon the Shepard?"

"Well, if I didn't know any better, I would say it's all those stories you listened to from your Uncle when you were a girl about the Princess finding favor with some god or other, or a mighty prince, and they living happily to the end of their days together. I believe the story of the god Garrus and Princess Mononoke was the favored one."

"You do your service a great honor, Hart," Shali whispered. Then she shook her head, stealing herself for the day ahead. "Well, the stories do tell us that the Shepard had the most unlikely of allies. Think of the time he disposed of the Holy Grail in the Mountains of Fire and was led their by the creature Gollum. In the end Gollum proved evil, but he did help defeat the Dark Lord Vader."

"True enough," Hart agreed calmly. "Shall we prepare?"

"Yes. We have a duty to uphold."

**Shepard**

Some days were just not worth it getting out of bed. This was proving to be one such day for Commander Shepard. When he ran across someone who apparently heard form Miranda, he was ecstatic. After all, if he could see Wrex, Grunt and Bakara and hear from Kasumi, why not Miranda? Sure it could be all just a dream, but dammit, he would take a dream of Miranda over any other woman any day of the week.

Except that woman was proving to be like having a busted ventilation fan. Tol'riah didn't like her because she was a thief. Gargo didn't like her because she was disrespectful of anything and everything. Shali appeared to think Gwen had actually slept with him and taken personal offense to it. Hart didn't like what Shali didn't like. Polinna was the one exception. She thought the newcomer was funny, and at her age that was good enough. At least until she noticed her mother's disapproving eye. Then everyone had hated Gwen.

If the thief had given even the slightest hint that she was remorseful or that she realized that no one seemed to like her, Shepard would have done something. He still needed her, but he could have tied her up and strapped her to a kakliosaur. Instead, Gwen was completely oblivious that anyone did not think she was their best and greatest pal. Either she was an excellent actor, or she was dumber than a vorcha.

"Shali, that veil is so pretty! I wonder if I should wear a veil. Then I could be all mysterious and romantic like you! Of course it's also terribly practical, how could a guard identify you after you swipe something if you have a veil on! Pure genius I tell you."

"My Tol'riah, that is a very big sword. Tell me, how much do you think it's worth? Just wondering, I like to keep a list of apparent value of my companions good in case I need to ransom them or something."

"Hey Polinna, what to learn a new word? It starts with –"

"Enough!" Gargo growled, spurring his kakliosaur forward and glaring at Gwen. "If this wench does not learn to put a civil tongue in her head, I shall remove it until we can find her a better one and spare us from her inane drivel!"

"Oh, save me my lord! I offer my body in payment. You like, no?"

Grinding his teeth, Shepard stared doggedly forward as Gwen lolled about in her saddle, acting like she was going to faint. "Gargo, why don't we try a gag first? I'd hate to not be able to question her later."

"Oh! The nerve! Threatening an innocent girl like me? Surely this is not the words of the great god Shepard!"

Because he turned to glare at Gwen, Shepard caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Normally he wouldn't be worried about that, they were only a few hours ride from Tuchanka and passing through the rocky hills on a well worn trail. However, something about the movement pricked the back of Shepard's mind.

"Vorcha!" he called, and rolled out of his saddle just as a crude javelin passed through the space he'd been occupying.

"Puny god! Dark masters say kill! We bring you head for warchief! Many rewards for us!" a vorcha voice called.

Activating his omnitool, Shepard drew the sword he'd been issued. Hopefully he could remember the few lessons he'd had, though it couldn't be all that different from N7 training.

He glanced around at the party, and noticed that Gwen had vanished. He swore softly, he'd have to track her down later. He had to get some answers, and he HAD to find Miranda. Gargo had kicked his kakliosaur forward and was charging the vorcha lines, battle axe raised to the sky as he bellowed a warcry. Their foes were dressed in dirty leather and rusted chainmail, and the snarls on their faces were just like those of Blood Pack vorcha that Shepard had faced before. They had spears, hooks and crude bows, though most of their foes were armed with spiked clubs and pointed sticks. Still, there were a lot of them.

Tol'riah had Pollina between herself and Shali, biotics and that weird orange techno-stuff crackling around the two women. Shali had raised her staff towards the vorcha chief, and a line of electricity cracked out, knocking the creature off the rock it was perched on. Tol'riah was deflecting arrows with her biotics and hurling balls of energy back at her foes, her sword held easily in one hand despite the fact that it was taller than she was. Hart was crouched low behind the kakliosaurs, firing his bow into the enemy.

Shepard unleashed an incinerate into a group of vorcha that were charging his position, causing them to shriek in pain and drop to the ground. Running forward, he dispatched the group before they could rise, stabbing each of the vorcha in vital organs. An arrow seemed to grow out of Shepard's leg, and he gasped in pain and dropped to one knee. He spied a group of vorcha archers taking aim, and tried to raise his omnitool to fight back. Before he could, a shadow seemed to coalesce behind the archers, and a dagger flashed into their backs. One spun to try and fight the shadow, but his arrow passed through empty air. The dagger flashed again, and blood spurted from the vorcha's throat. He gurgled and fell, then Gwen's grinning face appeared above the shadow.

"Man, you guys have the worst luck. These vorcha don't have anything good on them at all," the thief complained, then vanished back into the shadows.

Glancing around, Shepard saw that all the vorcha were now dead or dying. A quick count told Shepard that there had been at least thirty of them. He was impressed; his little party of six warriors had each taken on at least five foes. Shepard was the most injured, with the others coming off with minor wounds. Tol'riah came over with Polinna, taking the arrow in Shepard's calf in her hands.

"Do it," he growled, gritting his teeth. He grunted as the asari jerked the shaft out with her biotic fueled strength, and blood flowed freely from the wound. Then Tol'riah placed her hand on the injury and murmured what sounded like a prayer. The flow was immediately staunched, and the pain fled.

Flexing the leg experimentally, Shepard noticed that it had healed even better than if they had been in possession of medigel. It was a little stiff and sore, but the wound felt like it was days old with treatment, not something he'd received in the last five minutes. "Thank you."

"It was my duty," Tol'riah answered, then glanced behind Shepard. "It seems the thief is not as useless as we feared."

"I am full of useful and interesting abilities!" Gwen cheerfully stated as she sauntered by, twirling her dagger so that it's blade caught the sunlight. "I already checked the bodies on this side, nothing good. Better go see if there's any loot on the other side."

Shepard shook his head; she was far too much like Kasumi for his liking. At least in the end Kasumi had proven reliable enough, but Gwen seemed even less interesting in the bigger picture.

"Shepard, this is an ill omen," Hart whispered, stepping up next to him and holding up a vorcha knife. "They are five hundred miles from the Wall. There should be no vorcha in krogan territory. Not this many. And what they said..."

Nodding grimly, Tol'riah looked over at her bondmate, who was stomping back down the hill, his armor covered in blood and grim. "Never in my long life have I seen vorcha in krogan lands. If they have come this far, serving the master they claim, it does not bode well for my own homeland. The Republic is not a place of mighty warriors. The justicars are few in number, and the salarian spies are not fit for open battle."

"Sounds like that puts us on a timer." Shepard sighed, glancing up at the sun. It was yet high in the sky, they had plenty of miles they could cover before dark. "Mount up. We've got to keep moving. Perhaps we can find shelter at the next town."

"Hey, I found something!" Gwen called, stepping out from behind the pile of dead vorcha Gargo had left behind and holding something up.

"Probably gold," Hart sneered, his mandibles raised in distaste.

Gwen hurried over, wrapping whatever it was in a cloth and giving it to Shepard. "Take a look, but not a long one. Those things are bad news."

Carefully, Shepard unwrapped the cloth, revealing a shard of obsidian that seemed to dim the afternoon light. It seemed to pulse in his hands, a primal throb he recognized from the Bahak system long ago. "Reaper tech."

"A shard of the dark gods, dispose of it!" Tol'riah hissed, jerking the cloth back over the shard.

"Vorcha with a shard?" Shali demanded, hurrying over. "We must prepare a protective ward and bury the thing!"

"No!" Gargo interjected. "That will poison the land in only a few short years, wards never last unless maintained."

Soon everyone was shouting and gesturing, Pollina clinging to her mother's skirts with a worried expression on her face, staring up at Shepard through tear filled eyes. Only Gwen was silentl, carefully studying everyone's expressions, till her gaze settled on Shepard. He held the shard up, and felt anger surge within him. After all this time, still the Reapers tormented the lands.

_They must be destroyed, removed, no longer tolerated! _Shepard inwardly raged. He felt his omnitool activate, and he grasped the shard in both hands, squeezing as if to destroy it. _Burn you hellish thing!_

With a roar of thunder, the cloth in Shepard's hands erupted into flames hot enough that the others drew back in shock. Shepard just stared into the flames, willing them brighter, to cleanse the evil in his hands. With a rush of wind, the flames vanished. To Shepard's shock, the cloth was unharmed, but there was nothing but ash within. He held the rag open, and the wind picked up the ashes and scattered them.

"Good riddance," Shepard growled, tossing the cloth back to Gwen. "Come on, let's move."

**Gargo**

Guiding his kakliosaur with his knees, Gargo held is daughter close to him. She was sleeping, exhausted after the trauma of the attack. That was fine, she was yet young and not a warrior. Battle was wearying even to and old fighter such as himself, and Gargo did not begrudge his beloved daughter her rest.

What he did envy was her peace. For the first time in his life, Gargo had truly looked into the face of a god. The Shepard's holy wrath had been awesome to behold. Never before had anyone, not the most holy of shamans or the most blessed of sorcerers been able to destroy a Reaper artifact so completely without great pains and trials. Yet the Shepard had done so with a simple flame. There had been no trace of evil left, Tol'riah and Shali both had confirmed it.

Gargo nodded to himself. A god was fearsome and terrible, but the Shepard seemed a good one. Even in these dark times where enemies abounded, Gargo had found a spark of hope. He caressed his daughters head tentacles gently. Where hope yet remained, the future endured.


End file.
